Every year at Christmas, I do a review of the festive adverts. I do it because I’m a big fan of Christmas, and a big fan of adverts. My inkwell may have a drop of mockery in it, but in general my summaries come from a place of love, because a well-done Advent advert is a beautiful thing – warm, witty, succinct, and so goddamn Yulesome you could roast it on an open fire and call it a chestnut. The best tell a story, feature distinctive characters, have a great soundtrack and above all, sell a product. Some adverts only do one or two of those things, but some nail all four. And invariably, the best Christmas advert is the John Lewis one.

OK, so in recent years they haven’t quite hit the heights of 2011’s ‘The Long Wait’ which is basically the best Christmas advert of all time (along with this one) but mostly their ads are head and shoulders above everyone else’s. Just really classy and considered, like they’re the Donald Draper in the room, and all the other ad execs are throwing mud at a wall to see what sticks. Which brings me to John Lewis’s latest offering ‘Let Life Happen’…

There were a LOT of people grumbling about this on Twitter so of course I had to have a little look, even though strictly speaking it’s outside the festive season. But fuck it, I’ve already started my Christmas shopping (no, really – I am that person) so am in the zone. Let this be a sneak peek into the consumer stocking, which is a better way of saying: ‘do you want to take a deep dive into a home insurance commercial?’ Of course you do:

The camera pans across a very messy bedroom, accompanied by the insistent, chugging riff of Stevie Nicks’ ‘Edge of Seventeen’. What is it, a burglary? No; up rises a small, determined boy, dressed in his mother’s clothes, jewellery and makeup, bent on destruction. He sashays through the house, leaving havoc in his wake: specifically, he kicks his leopard skin shoes at light fittings, smears nail polish along the banister, casually tweaks picture frames, upends his sister’s paint on the carpet etc, all while maintaining a steady death stare to camera. He means it, you see? This is not accidental; this is wilful damage, which I think you’ll find would contravene key elements of his parents’ insurance policy. ‘Our house got trashed coz our son is a little shit’ isn’t an acceptable claim, as far as I’m aware.

Quick shoutout for the star of the show, which is the house. Carrie Symonds may find the idea of a John Lewis home a ‘nightmare’ but for me it’s a dream. The kitchen is to die for, the space really flows and there are some lovely colour pops in the soft furnishings. It really is a shame to mess it up in this way.

But wait: has he actually trashed it? I mean, is it beyond repair? As the mother of two highly irritating and unruly boys, I’ve confronted my fair share of child-related domestic mayhem, and on second viewing, I concluded that the state here could be described as ‘disarray’ rather than ‘destruction’. The bedroom can be tidied, lamps reinstated to their original position, nail varnish removed with acetone, picture frames simply straightened. The paint on the carpet and units is likely to be water-based, and should come off with a good scrub. The worst of it is the glitter he flings across the dining room – it’s a bugger to hoover. But not impossible. So, in fact, the actual damage is minimal. Phew. No need to make a claim after all! Which makes the insurance aspect of advert… unnecessary? It would be a better advert for a team of cleaners, who could relieve the mum and the sister of this irksome task, which surely falls to them. Because it’s always the women doing the clearing up, isn’t it? After the men have had their fun.

I suppose John Lewis would say this is a story of the boy’s freedom of self-expression, but it’s interesting that his particular form of spontaneous individuality encroaches on other people’s activities so robustly. It wasn’t always this way - in a strikingly similar 2015 JL ad, a budding ballerina pirouettes and spins a whisker from disaster, leaving vases wobbling, chandeliers swaying and a grandfather clock rocking as she twirls dementedly around another very nice house. But the difference here is the intent: the focus is on the dance rather than the destruction. The danger of damage is a by-product rather than the purpose. Her brother stands bemused, but his own pursuits are unhindered. It’s a kinder, more joyous and less aggressive advert than the 2021 incarnation, which I think says something about where we are right now.

Yes, we’re in an era where to have your fun you have to muscle in on someone else’s. It’s really quite a fitting metaphor, isn’t it? You see, John Lewis ARE the best at adverts. They tweaked their own idea, made it darker, edgier, and got everyone talking about gender politics.

*Rubs hands* I can’t wait for Christmas!