Patrick Carlyon: Australia’s COVID-19 vaccine advertising campaign should inject humour, comic relief

The promotional campaign to get the coronavirus vaccine needs a big dose of good ol’ Aussie humour.

Coupled with Australia’s vaccination program, which begins next week, will be a promotional

campaign urging Australians to get the jab.

As yet, the details have not been announced, but Australia could take its cues from the British version, which features Elton John and Michael Caine delightfully lampooning themselves.

“It didn’t hurt. Not many people know that,” Caine said, reprising his age-old catchphrase.

“Let the little fella know he didn’t get the job,” an off-screen director says after John valiantly auditions for the role.

Lara Bingle.

Shane Jacobson as Kenny, in the movie that made him a household name in 2006.

Britain nailed it. Australia’s history of public service announcements are, well, more potted.

Our campaign, if history is our guide, could be fresh, dreadful or just off the mark.

Lara Bingle’s tourism campaign never really worked.

Is it time for a comeback? “Where the bloody hell are ya?”’ she could ask, bikini-clad, as a doctor administers a shot.

Shane Jacobson, as Kenny, could emerge from a portaloo and announce that he’s been “busier than a one-armed bricklayer in Baghdad”.

“Crikey, there’s a smell in there that will outlast religion,” he could say, wiping his soiled hands with a rag.

“Fair dinkum, so will COVID if you don’t get the jab today.”

Elton John nailed his appearance in the UK’s COVID-19 vaccine promotional campaign. Picture: Matt Taylor.

Authorities will probably opt for faces and or professions that are best trusted. A scientist, such as Professor Fiona Stanley, an epidemiologist, could reassure and encourage.

Our most trusted brand, it seems, is Bunnings.

Could staffers give their spiel about the pleasures of DIY before the ad ends with the peppy catchline: “Bunnings Warehouse, Get the JA-AB!”

Australia is a sporting nation. Might Nick Kyrgios recreate an on-court meltdown before turning to the camera: “It’s all show on court. But there is no play-acting when it comes to vaccinations.”

Steve Smith could cover drive COVID “to the fence”.

Australia’s past advertising campaigns have been memorable, for the wrong reasons.

A footballer could launch a torpedo: “Straight down the middle. Get your shot before the final siren.”

How about Dame Edna in a white coat, and armed with a syringe, standing over Sir Les Patterson as her patient offers some lewd gag about getting his fill?

Matt Preston could liken the jab to the secret ingredient that brightens every family gathering. An influencer, surrounded by essential oils with whale music playing, could extol the soulful contentment of getting the shot before any of your friends do.

Brickman, from Lego Masters, could explain that herd immunity can be built brick by brick. My personal selection is a bit left-field. The campaign needs a face that is instantly identifiable, engaging and persuasive.

It’s been a long time since Eric Bana played Chopper. “Why would I shoot a bloke BANG, then drive him to the bloody car and whiz him off to the hospital at a hundred miles an hour? ...” he could ask?

Bana’s Chopper could then sneer sinisterly at the camera: “Because he is next in line for the COVID jab.”