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MoneySuperMarket - Epic Skeletor (2017)

He-Man was a poor. I mean Man at Arms was alright but generally speaking it was badly animated and couldn’t even be bothered to have a city that transformed into a big metal Frisbee like BraveStarr did and now I think about it that robot horse was cooler than Battlecat as well.

So as such I always sided with his nemesis Skeletor when the occasion absolutely required me to form an opinion, like the time we buried Simon’ s figuring in the pit on the green behind the garages in the wet sand that according to his mum was probably cat piss and so he had to throw the figure away. A fate that I’m sure would have left Skeletor laughing to himself in that agreeable way that he is so famous for. 

I digress.

By now I’m pretty used to the use of the cartoons that are on before TV-am being used to sell financial goods to idiots, but seriously what on earth is going on here? Previous MSM (MoneySuperMarket) ads have been hateful, but the addition of the Skeletor and He-Man characters seems so arbitrary it hurts. Someone should’ve shut this down in the early stages just like someone should have when James asked if he could perform a highly sexualised dance to Sweat (A La La Long) by Inner Circle in assembly that time. Confusing, unnecessary, deeply uncomfortable, although in the latter case not entirely unwatchable.

I’ll let that up his own arse twat Prince Adam summarise anyway:

“In today’s story, MoneySuperMarket tried to combine its recent dancing adverts with a cartoon that no-one gives a shit about, and found out that it can fuck off.”

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Sainsbury’s - ‘Food Dancing’ (2017)

I remember the Orchard Primary School summer disco in 1992 primarily because news of Denmark’s shock European Championship victory caused the ‘DJ’ to interrupt a particularly well received play of The Gap Band’s ‘Opps Upside Your Head’. But prior to this the memories I have are nothing but cherished ones. The Grease megamix, Jive Bunny and the mastermixers, the 2 Unlimited megamix, it really was the height of the early 90s megamixing craze and everyone was enjoying it until someone tried to contrive a slow dance between the girls and boys present to ‘(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life’ and everyone huddled into opposite corners and eventually Heather danced with David and I went home and cried in the bath round my nans house.

But up until that point everything had gone well because there was a clear demarcation between the dancing (peacefully contained within the assembly hall) and the food on offer (Makro-bought crisps and snacks, one free packet and a Calypso cup available on redemption of disco ticket) in the junior’s classroom. It’s basic school disco organisation, to keep dancing and food separate, and not without reason. reasons that are so chillingly illustrated in Sainsbury’s current cack-fest of an ad campaign.

I don’t like to swear, but even as a child of 10 years old, I do have to ask what the fuck has your disco dancing got to do with cooking you fucking insufferable prick.

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Muller - ‘Pud Corner’ (2015)

The complex politics of Primary-level social cliques means that it can be a minefield when organising get togethers with ones colleagues and classmates. I recall one birthday party where my Mum insisted on inviting Nathan despite his having little to no interest in the bowling / over-sized Scalextric / Quazer triple-punch on offer and as such he moped around on the periphery all day sticking out like a sore but ultimately boring thumb. In Nathan’s defence, when it came to the cutting of and eating the cake, he 100% successfully managed to receive his piece of cake and deliver it to his own mouth with any real trouble. While here the birthday cake is substituted a dessert from Muller’s slightly-fancier-than-a-fruit-corner Pud range, Nicole Scherzinger singularly fails to complete this most basic of tasks.

What the fuck is going on here? Why is Scherzinger at this party and allowed to interact with young children despite her inability to operate a yoghurt? I get told off for leaning back on my chair both in class and at home and here Scherzinger displays the kind of brazen double standards I’ve come to expect from most adults. It is therefore pleasing to see her get her comeuppance then when she falls off said chair, but somewhat frustrating that she merely ends up with a tiny spot of the dessert on her nose. In reality the product would’ve gone everywhere, necessitating a change of clothes and thorough clean-up, something I imagine Ms Scherzinger would find less amusing while visiting the home of a complete stranger.

An excellent example of the ‘what the fuck is this celebrity doing in this advert’ genre, after my brain has readjusted and come to terms with the Scherzinger-as-Chuckle-Brother schtick that Muller phoned in for this ad, I’d present you with a Muller yoghurt and push you down a flight of stairs to see how feasible the nose-yoghurt outcome of the advert is. If you had failed to become either significantly hurt or fruit-compote covered, I would resort to attacking your eyes with a teaspoon.

Actually it might have been Nathan’s party come to think of it. I definitely wasn’t fucking cheating by putting my Quazar pack under my jumper and that’s why I decided to spend much of the day sat away from the rest of the cunts until they learned how much they valued my company.

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Bet Victor - ‘Pogo’ (2014)

Gambling adverts are the absolute worst, and this is an awful, awful advert but isn’t by any stretch the awfulest of its genre. BUT it is the nadir of Paul Kaye’s work for Bet Victor if you ask me. This ad successfully marries two of the golden rules of shit adverts creating a steaming hot mass of liquid shit that makes me want to hurt you. Victor Chandler decides he is an actor and only marginally out acts that guy with incomprehensible moustache from the legendary PI Helpline advert of yesteryear, and then actual character actor with insufficient public profile to warrant to justify such a role Paul Kaye decides to chew up the screen in an attempt to compensate. James from our class once did a similar thing in the school play when the girl playing Peter Pan was getting booed by most of the boys. Unfortunately as he was supposed to be playing a tree this was a difficult ad-lib for the rest of the cast to cope with and quickly descended into farce. Similarly, everyone else in this advert is looking at Paul Kaye’s character and, instead of concentrating on their own lines or motivation, wondering what fuck-nugget thought a fucking motorised pogo stick was worth the effects budget? It wasn’t. Nor frankly was the money spent on Mr Kaye’s fee. It almost makes you long for Ray Winstone’s disembodied head, and also makes you long for the disembodiment of Mr Kaye’s head in a more traditional, medieval kind of way.

This advert would have me punching you in the leg while shouting ‘what the fuck is that even supposed to mean?’ at you over and over again. You’d get a dead leg and if you told on me then I wouldn’t let you come round our house again and you haven’t even got a SEGA Master System so think on.

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Samsung ‘Galaxy S6 Wireless Charging’ (2015)

I am not sure that Rita Ora would be let into a recording studio with a mobile phone. I am certainly not allowed to use mine in Mrs Smith’s music lessons lest I waste time that could be better used learning the layout of the various sound effects on a Yamaha Portasound PSS-480 keyboard. What happens if, during her vocal take, the phone becomes sufficiently charged and makes a noise to say ‘I am sufficiently charged Rita’? That would surely be picked up by the microphone and presumably unwelcome. There is no place for a telephone sound effect in music unless it is performed by playing a low on D# on the sound effects preset on a Yamaha Portasound PSS-270.

While all this is a major concern, all these worries evaporate when the ad goes quiet and Rita says ‘I’m reeah-eddy’. What the fuck is that? She categorically doesn’t say ‘I’m ready’ as she puts a whole bonus syllable in there. It makes me want to vomit. But along with the nausea I also feel like I want to punch someone in the vocal chords as if somehow that will stop anyone else making this noise. It sounds like a shitting Natterjack Toad mating call or something.

She’s quite fit though and she’s less of a ball sack than that Jessie J so on balance I probably still would, and on surveying the male population of my class, eight agree with me, although several others who I imagine would be of the same mind were not surveyed as I’ve been told not to speak to them on threat of legal action. Mr Aldridge was not approached as he smelt a bit like BO.

I’m 10 years old.

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Dolmio - 'Lasagne' (2010)

Apologies for the low quality of the video here, it took some effort to get it off the VHS and I'm not allowed to play with the tracking. It will suffice.

First of all I have nothing against Lasagne, it is one of my favourite dinners and while my Dad claims he makes it himself, I suspect he uses a prepared sauce for the white sauce element at least. Although it is likely to be the superior Ragu ready made stuff. Mum doesn't like lasagne because there is too much pasta but she does like spaghetti bolognaise which seems demented to me.

I  cannot get past the cold, dead eyed stares of the actors in this commercial. In fact the more I watch the advert I believe the actors in question may not be Italian at all. The accents seem forced. Furthermore, Bertolli nee. Olivio adverts and a familiarity with the Italian national football team have taught me that all Italian people are old, so the inclusion of two children in this family is also confusing. In the closing scene where 'Mama' and 'Papa' both turn up to say 'whensa your Dolmio day?', which I understand is a traditional Italian greeting dating back as far as when Gladiator was real, they seem to be confused as to why they are holding these jars, as if they've forgotten that they're in a commercial. Adverts which are character led need strong actors and Dolmio have seemingly just hired the first 'Italians' they could find, presumably in some kind of home.

In the same way that the more overweight and unpopular a classmate is, the more likely he is to sit next to you during reading time or on a school trip, so it is that the greater the level of murderous rage an advert inspires, the greater the chance of it becoming a fucking everlasting eternal nightmare of a series of commercials. I call this 'Pickering's Continuum of Ballsack', and it is one of the most universal certainties in advertising. It is also analogous to your life, so think on.

I'd probably just shout 'LASAGNE!' repeatedly in your face while head-butting you if you were within reach during the airing of this commercial.

I am 10 years old.

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Oak Furniture Land - Big Weekend Sale (2015)

I like IKEA because I like the meatballs in the café and the bedroom section where they have slides in the bunk beds which is so cool but you can't jump on the bed still says Mum. I also like IKEA because occasionally their television ad campaigns aren't cataclysmically fucking toss.

In other adverts in this series the branch manager displays a contempt to his employees that would, having been captured on camera and broadcast to the nation, brought Oak Furniture Land into disrepute but with seemingly no regard for realism the bell-end returns for this special Big Weekend Sale ad that they wheel out whenever they've got a sale on.

Why does this store have a glass fronted viewing booth for the manager? Why if the first words of his speech that are broadcast are in fact 'wobbly tables, flat-pack furniture and allenn keys" surely customers should be concerned rather than impressed? None of this adds up. 

Everyone in this branch is a complete arsehole and if this serves as a snapshot of branches across the Oak Furniture Land business, then I certainly will loudly refuse to leave the Cavalier should my parents take me to a store and continue to protest once inside.

For being unfortunate enough to be sat next to me should this advert be on screen, I would sit you beneath an extender table, insist you put your head through the table gap, then slam it shut. Repeatedly.

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Wilkinson Sword 'Schick Hydro Billiards' (2015)

I'm only 10 years old so I don't have to shave but this series of adverts rather puts me off the whole idea. I have so many questions about this particular version of this advert that I haven't time to complain about the others, so I may return to the female equivalent version where the hydration is provided by roses flying across a street because of course that happens.

Firstly, that initial look from the girl says 'watch me cannon the blue ball off the table into your face' which isn't very nice at all. Once I gave Heather in our class half of my school disco ticket so she could get a drink or some of those shite tomato crisps and she still refused to dance with me, but at no point did she even suggest she was likely to resort to violence, which was to her credit. Also my Dad says if she was trying to play that shot she'd have probably potted the black ball because she's a woman, so there are already questions raised about realism and character motivation.

And then the guy just lets the ball hit him in the face. Yes, it turns to water, but if this is meant to represent 'hydration when you least expect it', why isn't he getting the fuck out of the way? Moron. No wonder your girlfriend wants to maim you, you absolute tosser. He's rubbing his jaw and smiling at the end as if he enjoyed it and, fair play to the casting manager, he looks exactly like the kind of spode who would take a girl out to play billiards which you can't even do at Superbowl and they've even got a Quasar. 

Anyway, all of this is to say that if you were in my vicinity while this was on the television I would throw a billiard ball in your face and repeatedly shout 'HYDRATION WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECTED' at you until you begged me to stop through your now toothless, bloodied mouth.

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Hive ‘Bullshit Arsehole Song’ (2014)

As a schoolboy, my main belief system is based around the fact that if it rhymes then it must be true. Yet everything in this advert rhymes and is complete bullshit. I am 10 and I would be embarrassed to submit these lyrics as part of a poetry competition that has been organised and they bought the man who illustrated The Jolly Postman in to tell us about it. I think the man who sings this probably has a beard like the man that does the birds watch thing on TV but is a bit younger than him but equally as much of a miserable ball bag but not because he has to watch birds but because he wrote and sung this song.  Stick to writing acrostics of your fucking name mate, they’re easy and if they’re good they get put on the noticeboard and nobody wants to deck you in.

If I had a house I would make the central heating system so massive and hot that it would be like Charizard doing a Blast Burn, so basically four million degrees. If the Hive app would allow me to turn up the heating remotely to that level I would put the songwriter, performer, producer, animator and as many staff from British Gas as were available into my house, drive really quickly away on my Street Wolf, and then turn the heating up to probably just one million degrees to save money on the gas bill. The only problem is that I haven’t got much credit on my phone and I think this needs the internet and also you can’t get the internet on the phone that I’ve got because it’s crap.

If you were sat next to me while this advert came on I would likely murder you by stabbing you with a pencil or some sharp LEGO. I could snap a long piece of Technic I reckon. The only question mark over that is whether or not you bleed out before you make it to hospital. I can’t imagine my Dad will take you in the Granada because the upholstery is beige and you’d probably ruin it.

Mum says I would go to prison for a long time if I really hurt someone but my Grandpa says prison is like being on holiday and at least I would never have to hear this fucking song again.

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In The Planet of The Apes film I watched the orangutan was the quiet, peaceful ape that used his knowing stare to bestow psychological blows upon humans and apes alike which were more powerful than any frenzied chimpanzee attack. But this orangutan is definitely going to murder everyone in this house the moment that SSE engineer finishes whatever he’s doing. And then will possibly track down and murder him too. I don’t know if that is the message I’m supposed to take away from this advert, but I am certainly thinking about violent monkey murders rather than the weight of public opinion forcing an energy company to freeze their prices for the year. 

Nathan in our class once said there was a video on YouTube where a monkey ripped a man’s face off and I thought that would’ve been a big monkey but he said it was the same one they used on Friends

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Go Compare 'Gio Returns' (2015)

My main issue with this advert, which is vastly superior to the original 'Gio' adverts in terms of production values at least, is the assumption of public affection for the character. It's like this boy called James who I don't think goes to our school but definitely lives near my Nan. He had trials for Nottingham Forest apparently so everyone thinks he's amazing, but he's not actual achieved anything yet to earn that respect and he's a bit of a twat. That's a fairly decent analogy for this advert and I will show Mrs Smith this paragraph when I next have English.

My rage is only barely tempered by the fact that this shit is still an improvement on the LlandofsavingmoneyandgettingtherightdealgogoGoCompare series of adverts that were fucking awful from the very start when you saw they'd decided to capitalise the GoCompare bit of the half-arsed place name gag.

I don't care about Gio Compario. Although actually now I've written that out that joke seems a little less awful. I'm not invested in the character so the 'comical' faux-enthusiasm of the female fans is wasted on me. His little wink to the camera at the end would usually make me want to violently attack him but it betrays a hint of vulnerability that makes me think, actually, that my anger should be directed at the producers of this absolute dreck and the seemingly endless number of extras who have signed up to be in this thing.

I asked my Dad if he was any more likely to use gocompare.com for the purposes of renewing his car or home insurance as a result of this, and he said he didn't know how to use the internet and Mum did all that stuff and that he thought we were with Direct Line anyway but I should ask her. Mum said that she thought this advert was ok but she was crying at the end of Finding Neverland so I don't think she was entirely focused on my question. If I had to insure my Street Wolf bike I would certainly not use gocompare.com because of this advert. Although, on balance, now that one of the kids from Warwick Road nicked the console off the handlebars that makes all the sounds it's probably not worth insuring anyway so I'd probably go third party & fire from one of the cheaper insurers and sell it for scrap should anything major go wrong.

I would probably just want to punch your arm if you were sat near me after watching this though, so I wouldn't worry too much.