The Guardian‘s The Guide, 1 September 2007
[I must have got out on the wrong side of bed the morning I wrote this Hard Sell. More likely, I’d had a rough night; the kids were 22 months and four months old. I’d forgotten about this ridiculous, overly laddish advert, but now it’s all come rushing back to me.]
‘Everyone knows a bloke like Mickey. With Mickey, hair isn’t just hair – it’s a weapon to be used to devastating effect.’ The screen splits into three and here’s Mickey, shifty as a stoat, chasing skirt to the point of sexual harassment. ‘He’s got a look for every occasion,’ the voiceover continues, ‘the fluffy puppy; windswept and interesting; the intellectual…’ but by this stage words melt. Look at Mickey. Who’s he grinning at – us? Mickey’s a disingenuous slag, switching style frame by frame purely to pester women. The red-braced execs at Saatchi & Saatchi must believe Mickey has mass appeal. Disastrously, they’ve conjured up the most loathsome character since Crazy Frog.
Hatred is a hungry beast. As Mickey’s mug pops up like a cut-out figure on a shooting range, allow yourself to dream. Custard-pie Mickey’s face, again and again, until he drops unconscious. It’d be interesting to watch Mickey trying his luck with the wife of England u-21 manager Stuart Pearce. This could be the follow-up ad. Like a sordid octopus, Mickey’s hands tirelessly sweep. Inevitably, his fingertips find Liz Pearce’s backside and settle. Liz shifts uneasily. At the bar, Psycho witnesses all – in fact, he’s on his way back now. He smashes his drinks into the floor and, rolling back the years, trademark free-kicks Mickey in the ankles. The lothario spirals upwards, clattering against the pub’s far wall before bouncing back to Stu’s feet. The cycle continues like a harrowing game of spot until the advert fades out. Stay lucky, Mickey. Shame about the dandruff. LEE GALE