We really need to talk about that Verisure commercial.

I have long managed to puff it away because it is so easy to criticize something. That's why I have always covered Decupré's advertising series with the mantle of love. Do you know them? A charming blonde asks chef Decupré, who is subtitled as drs. Baas (because that academic title is extremely important in the world of mattresses, you should know, but the story doesn't actually tell what exactly he is drs. in) questions that will still inspire Matthijs van Nieuwkerk. They are of the level like: ‘I have heard that your mattresses are really amazing and that sleeping on your mattresses even improves your brain, is that true?’, to which drs. baas Decupré almost doesn't first pat himself on the shoulders and confidently tosses her long locks over her shoulders before giving an answer that starts with: ‘That is indeed correct.’

After the charming blonde, Koert-Jan de Bruijn was flown in to ask the pressing questions. Something that a dear colleague compared to sliding down a glacier into a ravine, career-wise.

Anyway, that's not what I actually wanted to talk about. Because Decupré sounds like a charming family business that has invested a small, modest portion of the profit in a commercial offensive. And who knows, it might work, so who am I to judge? But that it makes your toes curl, only a clever person can deny that.

But Verisure, wow. On the scale of toe-curling, this alarm system company scores a ten with a feather from the teacher. In case you haven't seen it, which is almost impossible because what a publicity offensive they have, it goes something like this.

Woman in a domestic setting calls her husband.
Man in a colorless office outfit answers.
She: ‘Honey! There has been a break-in at the neighbors!’
He: ‘You can't be serious!’
And all this at the same pitch, by the way.
She: ‘It could have happened to us! The children!’
He: ‘This can't go on any longer. I'm going to intervene NOW.’
And then that colorless man in office attire calls Verisure. Hard transition to the Verisure man who is going to take care of the problem. Woman, anxious and trembling: ‘Will it be done today?’ ‘Certainly, madam.’

I don't know what wins in what I find the worst: the stereotypical approach of the anxious woman and solution-oriented man, the textual simplicity, and the Lego version of a security man all compete for the top spot.

I hope that teachers from all our drama schools have built in a thick bumper that warns and protects them from this kind of rubbish, because those poor people won't survive this, you know, this ad.