Penguins, Pianos and Suspiciously Nice Sheds: The UshVP Christmas Advert Scorecard 2026
Photo: Internet Archive Book Images, No restrictions, via Wikimedia Commons
Right then. It is 8 November 2026. The supermarket adverts have already landed, the department stores have gone early, and somewhere a social media team is watching the replies with a mug of tea and a quiet sense of dread. Welcome to the UshVP Christmas advert scorecard, the only one that marks the sheds as well as the sentiment.
We are not here to be cynical about Christmas. We are here to be precise about it. Every November, Britain is subjected to somewhere between fifteen and forty minutes of highly produced emotion, and somebody ought to keep a record. So we have built a scoring system, applied it fairly, and included a printable sheet so your household can argue properly rather than vaguely.
How we score
Five categories, each out of ten, giving a maximum of 50 — a score no advert has ever achieved and probably never will, which keeps the system honest.
- Tear Quotient (TQ): Did anyone in the room go quiet? Did somebody say it is only a supermarket in a wobbly voice?
- Cameo Value (CV): Was the celebrity a delight, a distraction, or a person we had to look up?
- Soundtrack Stickiness (SS): Will you hear it in a Tesco aisle on 23 December and be transported, involuntarily, back to a sofa in November?
- Animal and Shed Content (ASC): Penguins, dogs, an impossible amount of snow on one roof. Self-explanatory, and the category most likely to decide the winner.
- Rewatchability (RW): Would you sit through it again by choice, in, say, February?
The 2026 field, marked
The big grocer's two-minute weepie. A child, a grandparent, a kitchen that is improbably clean. The twist arrives at 1:38 and lands, because the edit is genuinely good. TQ 9, CV 3 (a national treasure doing light work), SS 8 (a slowed-down song from your teenage years), ASC 4 (one dog, underused), RW 6. Total: 30. It will be the one everyone talks about, and it deserves about 80% of that.
The heritage department store's fairy tale. Animatronics, a small woodland, a hint of darkness. Beautifully made, slightly too long, and not entirely sure what it is selling. TQ 5, CV 1, SS 6 (an original, which is brave and faintly unmemorable), ASC 8 (hedgehog content, we are not complaining), RW 7. Total: 27.
The budget retailer with the animated animal. Chaotic, loud, forty seconds too long, and honestly the most fun of the lot. TQ 1, CV 2, SS 9 (an earworm; you will hum it in the car and hate yourself), ASC 9 (the animal is doing all the work), RW 8. Total: 29. The people's champion.
The mobile network's celebrity pile-up. Three famous people in a lift, one of whom appears to have been told the plot on the day. TQ 2, CV 7 for nerve alone, SS 7, ASC 1, RW 3. Total: 20. Fine. Moving on.
The sofa-and-carpet warehouse. Someone comes home. The door opens. There is a tree. That is the plot. TQ 4, CV 0, SS 5, ASC 4 (there is a cat, briefly, on the sofa), RW 4. Total: 17. Barely an advert; more of a mood board with narration.
The suspiciously nice shed. Every year somebody builds a fantasy outbuilding and films people having a lovely time in it, and every year we all want to live in it. TQ 6, CV 0, SS 6, ASC 10, RW 9. Total: 31. Our winner, narrowly, because the shed is the only set anyone genuinely covets.
The charity spot that says almost nothing. Black screen, one voice, ten seconds, an ask. TQ 8, CV 0, SS 10 for the song, ASC 0, RW 5. Total: 23 — and the only one here doing real work.
The printable scoring sheet
Print this, or copy it onto the back of an envelope, which is more British.
| Criterion | Out of 10 | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Tear Quotient | Did anyone reach for a sleeve? | |
| Cameo Value | Recognisable, or just a person in a coat? | |
| Soundtrack Stickiness | Will it haunt your December? | |
| Animal and Shed Content | Count the animals. Count the sheds. | |
| Rewatchability | Honestly, would you? | |
| Bonus: Absurd Kitchen | +2 if the fridge is unreasonably tidy | |
| Bonus: Unsatisfying Resolution | +3 if nobody actually gives anyone anything |
The sip game (non-alcoholic, family-safe)
One rule above all: you sip, you never gulp, and you stop when the mug is empty. Nobody needs a game that demands a fresh cuppa per trope.
- Sip when someone opens a front door to snow that has clearly just been switched on.
- Sip when a stranger hands over a gift with no explanation whatsoever.
- Sip when a character says a line no human being has ever said aloud.
- Sip when a celebrity appears and your nan asks who that is.
- Sip when the soundtrack inserts a dramatic pause mid-shot.
- Sip when a dog does something plot-relevant.
- Finish the cup if a shed, cabin or van is described as just a place to think.
Variation for the brave: assign a biscuit to each trope and ration yourself. You will run out. That is rather the point.
The verdict
Thirty-one points, one shed, no real surprises: the season still runs on the same three engines — a kitchen, an animal and a slowed-down song from 2004. But 2026 has been better than most at keeping things short, and the strongest pieces this year have remembered that the advert is not the event. The event is the argument afterwards about which one was best, conducted with a scoring sheet, a biscuit and several firm opinions.
Ours has a shed in front. We are not apologising.
