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- เผยแพร่เมื่อ 6 ก.ย. 2024
- The third and final break from 48Hrs finally runs up against the shortcomings of this break-bumper idea, freeze-framing abruptly in the middle of an action sequence.
And what do we see immediately after a lowrider smashing through several layers of glass storefront with brakes screeching? An advert for a headache medicine. How very kind. Specifically Solpadeine soluble paracodeine, or co-codamol if you'd rather, or all told paracetamol and codeine. So as you can imagine this is for heavy-duty pain - not just a bit of a headache, but the kind of migraines that leave you jerking your head back and forth, gritting your teeth, clutching your skull and genuinely praying for death. That level of pain. I'm pointing this out because the advert doesn't, instead implying this is just a souped-up asprin. Codeine is an opiate. You actually can't buy this at a chemist anymore without asking politely and promising not to take it except in emergencies, lest you become dependent. Obviously it was a different world in those days.
Standby: here comes some 1980s-vintage "eerie times" imagery. Cold blue lights, a silhouetted figure in a long coat. Oh, and Phil Collins. This is eighties noir. What could this be advertising? Mercury, of course! You know, the alternative telephone thing. That other phone network that rose up when British Telecom was finally privatised, throwing the industry open to competition. Just as soon as that competition has built an entire goddamn phone network of their own, of course (or the skeleton of one to bootstrap to the existing infrastructure, but it was no easier). Well, Mercury Communications would like to let you know, in very serious tone and language, that they've finished and ready to go, news so seminal it needs the drum break from In the Air Tonight to herald it. It's cheaper! The bills are itemised! They have a customer service division that they promise gives a shit about you! And hey, it's choice! Choice is good! The future is now! This kind of bullish, testicular attitude at launch just makes the early to mid 90s Harry Enfield campaign seem even more like undignified begging. "Look, it's that thing you like! PLEASE switch to us."
And now, a deeply annoying vidiprinter from the Bank of Scotland, beeping incessantly until you promise to open an investment account whether you understand it or not JUST MAKE THE NOISE STOP.
Quick reminder that it's the 12th of November. Here's a balls-out Christmas advert narrated by a giant snowman in a blizzard. Also featuring garlands, balloons, a roaring fireplace by a massive tree, and gift ideas, mostly for confused blokes who look a bit like Phil Cool might if he'd let finally his features set. Again, exactly six weeks before Christmas Eve. Bit soon to go this hard, but then there's always one. At least the snowman is marginally less creepy than Michael Keaton's - with points off after he starts singing the jingle. Didn't need that.
Finally, the Valeyard murders a baby chick before changing tack completely explaining about vans. There's one company in particular who make very good vans. They're made by robots, but it's not FIAT. They're reliable, but it's not Volkswagen. They're economical, but it's not some crappy packing crate on wheels from the Eastern bloc. They're secure, but they're not Volvo. Who are they? Ford. Vans with a Future. Not an especially long future, but still, compared to other vans, pretty impressive. Apparently. Buy one for your serial-killing needs today.
And then back to 48Hrs, with the strap initially appearing over a black screen so the viewers don't get whiplash from being plunged straight back into the narrative. American television does it this way all the time, it's exhausting.
