Plugged in
Jeffrey Bernard
The fuss that's been made about British Leyland's sponsorship of the deep thinking, ex-Sandhurst cowboy Mark Phillips has come as a surprise to only those few people unaware of royalty's tremendous dedication to making a few bob. The residents of Buck House and their forebears have been at it for years and only had filing systems and drunken records clerks have ruined the fun and the repeat fees by closing some of the best commercials ever made. Happily, micro-film of the better known ones has come into my possession and the plug done by Charles I —shot during a moment of great stress — proves what naturals the royals are and were at the advertising game.
You must remember that tense moment when the brave but foolish Stuart turned to the executioner and said, 'Wait for the signal,' and the axeman said, 'Aye, and it please your majesty.' Well, just after that, and not in the history books, Charles lifted his head fleetingly from the block and told the crowd, 'If you ever have to go this way, go Wilkinson Sword Edge for a cleaner, quicker, closer cut. Wilkinson have been in our family for 600 years and we swear by their craftsmanship.'
I suppose that one of the more colourful films on my files is the ever-popular Jaffa Orange commercial made by Charles II. We pick him up in long shot, walking through St James's Park — very soft focus — and then we zoom in on him and he chats rather languidly into camera. 'You know,' he says, 'I like an orange to be like my mistresses. Succulent, juicy, nourishing and with a touch of sharpness that makes you relish the thought of the next bite. If you can't afford a mistress, why not buy an orange? You know it makes sense.'
Of course, not all commercials have been in such good taste and in the same sort of 'soft sell' mould. I hate the Opt rex commercial that Nelson made just after the battle of the Nile and I can't help feeling that the film Richard III was pressured into making at. Bosworth Field on behalf of the British Bloodstock Agency wasn't in particularly good taste but at least they weren't as ghastly as the Edward II plug for the new fangled North Thames Gas poker. No, on reflection, I prefer the arty commercial. The pastel colours and soft focus nonsense makes me want the product much more than the crash bang hard sell. Rather touching, I've always thought, was the commercial George III made at Windsor Great Park. 'A lot of us nowadays,' he says, scratching his wig, 'find the pressures of day to day existence just too much. Some of us even go mad from time to time. I'm a king but quite frankly I'm a little potty sometimes. When I find I'm getting into one of my potty states I phone Ronnie Laing. You see, he understands. The next time you think you're going mad, why don't you telephone him and have a chat?' Perhaps the favourite, as far as I'm concerned, is the Venice Festival prize winner made for British Rail by Anna Karenina. You must remember the first glimpse of her beautiful eyes as the steam clears away and that appealing but sad smile. 'In the dumps? Feeling depressed? Can't face it? Why not end it all at Paddington or at any other of the London termini? Regular services at a variety of platforms are there to end it all. And, for the woman who simply wants to make a "cry for help", there are frequent suburban trains in and out of all major cities.' Some of the commercials that failed and were therefore shelved are collectors' items in themselves and the Duke of Windsor one for Gordon's Gin springs to mind. The way he delivered the punch line, what with those sad, watery eyes, 'Reality is a delusion created by a lack of alcohol,' is still rather moving. Rather too vulgar though was the commercial made by Edward VII when he was a little boy. Climbing the hill to Balmoral in his little shorts and wearing a caP there was the memorable voice-over, 'Me mam were always running out of condoms. Pop down to Boots she'd tell me and . .
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