A criminal, an obvious criminal, situated in some sort of dimly lit “den” or “lock-up”, is trying to get an older, better-dressed criminal to sign up to a deeply dodgy scheme, which he describes as a “world-class steal”. “Blades, premium blades,” he sneers. This, you might conclude is a very peculiar way for Gillette to promote its shiny, new razor subscription service, which offers the stabby little blighters at a discounted cost. For one thing, this world-class steal implies that the razors weren’t all that cheap in the first place. Which appears to spit in the eye of advertising 101: “You know that thing we sell at a grossly inflated price? We can actually supply it far more cheaply. Us. The ones offering you the grossly inflated thing in the first place.” In the ad, the cherub-cheeked crim, slathered in what can only be described as Scorsese pleather, is backed up by a severe-sounding voiceover imploring you to “Get in on the deal”. Otherwise, one presumes, some craggy don will be using your gonads as a sort of executive desk toy. So buy your razors from the mafia or you’ll wake up to a poorly shaved horse’s head under your duvet. No wonder everyone has a beard these days.
