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Morrie is always getting earache from his wife.

She tells him: "Look at you – you’re a schmuck. You dress like a schmuck. You talk like a schmuck. You even walk like a schmuck."

Morrie says: "OK, so I’m a schmuck."

His wife says: "You’ve got a schmuck’s car. You’ve got a schmuck’s job. You’re a schmuck."

Morrie says: "All right, I get it already – I’m a schmuck."

His wife says: "In fact, if there was a competition for schmucks, you’d come second."

Morrie says: "Why wouldn’t I come first?"

His wife says: "Because you’re a schmuck."

I sometimes feel like Morrie when I look at what we currently call advertising. It makes no sense to me. But clients are paying money for this stuff, and people in advertising are giving it awards. Everyone else can’t be wrong, it must be me. I must be a schmuck.

Judge for yourself. Maybe the current world of advertising makes sense to you.

Nike is five minutes long, an online animated film about footballers who unite to "save football" from being taken over by passionless robots. This film even has teaser ads running on the TV. But the teaser ads don’t advertise Nike footwear, they advertise the online film. I was completely sold on the quality of the animation. But I couldn’t escape the nagging feeling there was something else I should have been sold on. Footwear, maybe?

The next film is a 40-second commercial with £20 million of media behind it. It is for Blu e-cigarettes.

Thirty-six seconds of music and dancing, and dancing, and dancing. Then, the final four seconds say:

"Freedom for the taking." Now, it may be that research shows that everyone knows what e-cigarettes are, so you don’t need to tell them. In which case, why are they paying for the previous 36 seconds if they are not using them? They could have saved £18 million on media.

Stride gum also isn’t a commercial, it’s an online film. So it isn’t an ad about Stride gum, it’s a film about making an ad for Stride gum. But if you do want to know anything about Stride gum, there’s a button you can click at the end of the film. Maybe that’s where the ad is.

The Volkswagen film isn’t an ad, either – it’s a sponsorship film for cinemas. It’s a very well-shot send-up of Speed, but the car can’t get close enough for the hero to jump on to the bus because of VW’s "safe distance" technology. Although this wasn’t an ad, it was more of an ad than most of the ads I see. I understood what the ad was saying, I understood why I should watch it, I remembered who it was for and they said it in an entertaining way. This is the world of advertising that I remember.

The final ad also wasn’t a commercial, it was a sponsorship press ad for Robinsons. The art direction is terrific – it forced me to read the headline side-to-side like a tennis match. The headline reads like really well-written body copy. I know who did the ad, I know what they want me to think and they did it in an intelligent, stylish way.

With that and the VW film, the world of advertising begins to make some sort of sense again.

Maybe I’m not a schmuck, after all.

Welcome to Private View, written from Cannes, in Cannes. These are some words powered by rosé.

Words tapped out on a warm laptop,  perfectly balanced on the arse-cheeks of a naked CEO. Cannes is ugly and beautiful all at once. Think about the amount of excellent mistakes that will have happened on that lovely seafront in the time it takes to read this. Because seminars, speeches and storytelling aside, what Cannes is really about is an industry getting lost in itself for a moment.

Cannes is also an awards show. Shit and cream rise to the top and nothing in-between matters, so I’m going to devote 90 per cent of this to the cream.

The Stride spot is laugh-out-loud good. Yes, it’s deeply American. But it does what the US does best, better. And "talks to the UK consumer" through entertainment instead of a mirror. It’s crafted. The music, timing and casting are excellent. The script must have been bitty and tasted like word salad, the location small; but the belief in the comedy it would create has made something brilliant happen. This is Ray Gardner Tango for this decade. I love it when the UK wins, and this is so good, it pushes the Wieden & Kennedy offering for Nike from Portland aside. Well done, W&K London. Skills.

Would you watch a five-minute film from Moneysupermarket.com? The Nike thing is great too, but starts from a place no other brand could. That said, they nail it. It’s that reference of The Incredibles we all use in pre-prod meetings, but they’ve actually done it. Yes, it’s the same big characters everyone is holding aloft, but they’ve used them well. Cristiano Ronaldo playing his own mannequin and Wayne Rooney as Shrek are highlights. This is a piece about the craft and the details. And it will be an industry favourite. It’s a good story. Ultimately, though, despite it working for all the right reasons, it isn’t moving. And with this subject matter, a massive emotionally charged audience and an excellent Beats spot, I wonder if it will feel a bit flat in the real world.

Volkswagen is OK. Well-produced and I like the awkward end. But it’s not them. It could be for any car brand. It’s missing the class, restraint and surprise of their best work.

Robinsons Wimbledon is an old art directional gag used for tennis every year.

And the Blu e-cigarettes thing is a mood film from a pitch in 2002 that forgets to show me why I might actually want this product.

Some shit, for sure. But the cream makes it all worth it.

Sat in the middle of a truly global fretwank festival, I love that the best work here came from London. We need to take off the gloves and get punchy. We have variety and craft, and we don’t have one trick. We can all start to write to what won at Cannes last year or what we know will work, but that’s not how things move on. London needs to remember that, when we get it right, no advertising in the world can touch us.