Dialogue: All credit to ... whom?

Who makes all those great TV adverts? What are Ira and Bob's real names? These and other questions are bothering ad fan JILL JAMIESON.

Oh, how adorable is Ira Goldstein, the man in the ASB Bank advertisement. Not handsome in a conventional sense, no, but the sweet character comes through - the politeness, deference: "Plunket, sir."

What a wonderful husband he'd make, the sort of guy who gets his wife a cup of tea - make that coffee - first thing.

Come to think of it, what's Ira doing here without a wife? Why doesn't he bring her out to share that expensive pad with the Rangitoto view?

I suppose we're dealing with just one facet of his life - business.

So, Ira's criticised for living it up at the company's expense. We can forgive him. We love him. We want him here forever.

There's a different sort of appeal with the schoolmaster in the WestpacTrust advertisement. A man in control, supremely confident.

We get the vicarious pleasure of seeing pride before a fall.

One aspect of the advertisement caused concern - the lad who drooped at his desk, incurring the master's wrath. Didn't the child have breakfast? Was he kept awake all night by a rowdy party? But no, that can't be. It's not one of our local schools. It's a place where you pay to lose the personal touch - surnames only.

If ever an advertisement made a point, it's WestpacTrust's with its capped interest rate. It's so effective.

Then there's Bob, the Inland Revenue man, with the grainy skin and the gauche demeanour. Just gorgeous, though.

What a wonderful job the advertising agency is doing in humanising a hitherto faceless department.

What Ira, Bob and the schoolteacher have in common is that they're vulnerable. That aspect of a character has tremendous appeal to women.

I'd like to write to the brilliant people who conceived my three favourite advertisements and congratulate them. But, they're anonymous. There are never credits listed for commercials.

There's a bit of constructive criticism I'd like to give, too.

The Persil advertisement, where the meanie mother returns her son's clothes dirty and stinking.

Now, if the clothes had come back clean, plus the box of Persil, that would've been much more acceptable - though admittedly, much less attention-grabbing.

And then, oh dear, Toyota with its Bugger advertisement.

It's distressing to realise that Toyota has made a swear word, a term of sexual deviancy, commonly acceptable. I'd have written and protested when the advertisement came out - if only I'd known who to protest to.

Then there's the animal cruelty implied in the same advertisement. I needed to contact the advertising agency and say: okay, I know you didn't really pull the cow's head off. But how many times did the dog go splat in order to get that take? Please reassure me this shot was simulated - that the dog's tender parts weren't squashed again and again.

There's AMI with its pussycat, too. Alarming to watch the face swell up, the eyes grow wide, as the spring from the cuckoo clock expands in its mouth.

I need to point out that animals in distress may not be a good thing to promote.

But most of all I need to write to various agencies and say: you don't realise that 450,000 viewers are struggling to get your message.

Because those of us who tap in Teletext 801 for a comfortable evening's viewing are frustrated.

We can't quite grasp what Ira and Bob are saying because their advertisements aren't captioned.

When advertisers do provide subtitles, the hearing-impaired are inordinately grateful. Brand loyalty is assured. There are probably more tins of Fancy Feast and bottles of Ajax sold to deaf people than any other brand of pet food or cleaner.

The top advertisement, since its inception, has always been Toyota's notorious Bugger. Why, I wonder? Perhaps it appeals to an innate sense of wickedness, a sense of absurdity.

Incidentally, everyone can understand it. Subtitles are used.

I now know Toyota's agency is Saatchi and Saatchi - it's just been awarded another prize. But I don't know who's responsible for those brilliant cameos.

Let's recognise the fact that much of the drama, the humour, the entertainment on television these days comes from the advertisements. Can't we have credits, so we know whom to praise?

* Jill Jamieson is an Auckland writer.