Nonce To See You, To See You, Nonce.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned from the depressing Operation Yewtree investigation, it’s that what seemed like the innocent world of our TV yesteryears could actually be a dark and sinister place.

The 1970s are seen by many as the golden age of television commercials, but if we scratch its fluffy underbelly will something unsightly and sticky eventually go off in our faces? Which classic advertising characters should be frantically deleting their Internet search histories or burying their floppies in the garden? Here are my top 5 suspects.

The Jolly Green Giant

“Ho ho ho! Look at my green giant!”

Even as a kid I never trusted the Jolly Green Giant. There was something about the way he stood menacingly in a field, probably getting off on blocking out the sun for innocent crop growers below with his engorged emerald wang; chuckling away to himself in his mini skirt made of giant leaves.

The Green Cross Code Man

Often it’s a figure of authority you have to worry about. So a Superhero whose sole superpower is the ability to remember how to cross the road properly should probably start the alarm bells ringing. 

For one thing, he spent his days spying on children from what looked like a Camden bedsit, and for another, he had a habit of suggesting children follow him to a less busy street; one not so overlooked perhaps?

The Green Cross Code Man (not the actor, obviously) had a

little robot sidekick; possibly for watching 16-bit porn on.

Captain Birdseye

This Santa Claus look-a-like commanded a ship staffed solely by children for over three decades. Never mind the worker’s rights issues, was this some kind of warped Pavlovian experiment whereby getting his crew hooked on fish fingers would eventually allow him to coat his member in crispy breadcrumbs and rest it on the corner of the galley table at dinner time and let years of conditioning take care of the rest?

“Is that one of your breaded fish fingers in your pocket, Cap’n?”

“Ahhhhh!”

The Smash Aliens

At first glance their technology seemed dated and harmless, but who’s to say that our next bowl of bangers and mash won’t be the one that finally unlocks that horrible suppressed memory of being onboard their mother ship, naked and probed with whisks and masher attachments while they cackle like pissed bees?

S.M.A.S.H: Sick Mechanoids Amused by Sexing Humans (or something).

The Honey Monster

However, one character from the 1970s seems to stand out above all others. A larger than life figure with outrageous hair and an annoying catchphrase. Someone who appeared to be nothing more than an innocent man child; a dopey, apparently loveable, sometimes even tack-suited monster, hiding in plain sight, making us lower our guard and let him into our circle of trust.

How’s about that then guys and gals?

Martin Fucking Who?

Things were going along nicely with Churchill - we were writing some funny little ads and the client was very, very happy.

Then Martin Clunes had to go and ruin it by losing his licence for speeding.

Weirdly, he seemed to think it was odd that Churchill shouldn't want to pay a man who couldn't drive to advertise a product that only people who can drive can use, but everyone else saw it differently. As this great article from The Independent's Grace Dent brilliantly testifies.

The main problem was that we were due to shoot the next set of ads in the campaign around the time that the ban came to light, so we were thrown into a bit of a turmoil. We put out some 10 second offer ads to fill the gap, then got to work finding a replacement and re-writing the campaign to fit the new celebrity.

It was a bit of a fractious couple of months, but in the end we're pretty happy where we've got to.

We've used Dawn French who is really popular with the target market, and is also a really good on-screen fit with Churchill. She feels like she's been with him for ages. We have the launch ad for this campaign on our online folio page, so if you'd like to see it just click here.

We shot another 4 ads, which will air over the next month or so. We'll post them up as they're finished.

They were once again shot by the brilliant Dominic Brigstocke, through Tomboy, and were excellently produced by Lizzie Mabbut at WCRS (despite the distinct lack of lunchtime post-production sessions).

Mmm... Olympics!

I noticed a truly amazing thing while watching the Olympics on TV the other night.

It wasn’t the atmosphere in the stadium. It wasn’t the outstanding performances of Jessica, or Mo, or The Ginger Fella. It wasn’t even Gaby Logan’s Shoddy Cardboard Big Ben Gold Medal totalizer^®.

Gaby Logan’s Shoddy Cardboard Big Ben Gold Medal totalizer^®

No, it was something much more inconsequential; something you may not even have noticed at all. It was the colour purple.

The Cadburys Dairy Milk London 2012 Medal Givers.

Purple is everywhere: hanging from the rafters, adorning the many thousands of volunteers who keep everything moving, around the necks of medalists; it’s even the colour of the podium every athlete aims to end up standing on.

What’s wrong with purple I hear you ask? Nothing. I like purple. Purple is a perfectly nice colour. The trouble is that purple just so happens to be the main colour of one of the Games’ main sponsors.

A simple tweet about the podium making a Twitterer hanker after a bar of Dairy Milk was where it started. Quite a funny gag I thought, but the more I considered it, the more I wondered if there was indeed an ulterior motif behind the games’ branding beside it looking quite nice and feeling a bit regal.

The funny Tweet.

Ok, let’s ignore the fact that I find it immoral that a maker of fatty chocolate treats should be allowed anywhere near a festival celebrating the quest for physical perfection. That’s beside the point.

What I find hard to believe is that LOCOG would accidently allow the branding of a sponsor to match the branding of the Games. In my experience, it’s difficult enough to get a 50-word piece of copy through LOCOG - it’s like walking a minefield with elephantiasis of the ankles. So the decision to use the colour purple, or the decision to accept the purple brand as a sponsor (whichever came first), is frankly baffling.

Surely there were meetings in which sketches were shared? Then artist’s impressions, then material samples, print previews, dressing sessions, fittings and so on and so forth? Surely during one of these meetings, perhaps in which a bar, or bars, of chocolate might even have featured on the table, someone should have noticed the similarity of the purple in the stadium and the purple wrapping the chocolate?

Or is this all just a ridiculously implausible accident?

Forget Bradley Wiggins – the true winner of these games is Cadbury’s.

In my mind, the only way the Games could push its products any further would be if Curly Wurlys replaced the relay race batons.

Mmm… relay race batons.

It's about to kick off

After months of seeming inactivity, we are about to enter a month of mayhem; shooting more Churchill, a Sky Bet ad in Belgrade, and then more Churchill TV and print. All will appear here. I know, you could almost shit yourself with the excitement couldn't you?