So we have an old man with remarkable dentition, in a wasp-striped woolly, on a gorgeous, deserted white-sand beach, below an improbably blue sky. He's casting about with a metal detector, and finds some kind of gold sovereign affair the size of a small saucer. That's the signal for something of a commotion at sea: a strange figure emerges, walking on water, and Tom Jones starts singing "She's a Lady" at full tilt.
This Lady Luck is fully clothed, a figure more Panto than Ursula Andress. She's in silver lame, with a great many floaty, scarfy, trailing bits to it; on her silver skull-cap are radiating silvery quills that look exactly like those Sixties novelty fibre-lamps. This is a lady with elaborate stage make-up and long fingernails, got up like the Something Queen in a book of stage cuttings (in fact she looks very like the late Marti Caine as the Red Queen in a recent panto). Anyway, this apparition appears to our elderly beachcomber, gives him a scratchcard, and thumbs her nose at him.
In another more dramatic ad, she appears in a blaze of light to a young man who has cheated death in a plummeting lift when its fall is halted by a 50p-piece. The treatment, incidentally, is in the style of Dennis Potter's Lipstick on Your Collar - period lift, period building, Fifties people.
The Lukcy commercials ignore the two mainstream trends of British advertising - humour-with-attitude and special effects - in favour of a distinctive theatrical approach. It's curiously old-fashioned looking and rather likeable, but Lady Luck may scare your four-year-old.
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