The Jeep people can breathe a sigh of relief because their little Marxist propaganda film is no longer the worst freakin’ commercial of all freakin’ time.  No, the title has been stolen by another.

As you watch this commercial, just remember that it’s an advertisement for Citibank that was made after the federal government bailed out them out.  So, if you’re an American citizens, chances are that you paid for this commercial.

Okay, there’s so much about this commercial that is just soooo wrong.  

The guy narrating the commercial has a truly annoying serial killer-style voice.  Seriously, he sounds like Dexter should be dumping his corpse over the side of a boat. 

The woman playing the mother is a terrible actress as evidenced by her notably “enthusiastic” reaction to whatever it is that she eats at the local “deli.” 

There’s also this whole idea of Turkey — which has one of the WORST human rights records on the planet — serving as some sort of 21st century version of post-World War I Paris.  It’s nice of Citibank to let us know that actually, there’s little difference between Istanbul and Queens. 

Also, don’t you just hate the faux casual way that their son is all like, “So, I just decided to send them their old seats from the stadium…”  I mean, get over yourself. 

But ultimately, this commercial fails for one big and obvious reason and there’s a very important lesson here.  This commercial’s failure is ultimately all about casting. 

We’re specifically given two bits of information in this commercial.  First off, we’re told that the narrator’s father has moved to Turkey because he was “transferred” there by whatever soulless corporation it is that he works for.  And we’re also told that his father celebrated his “30-year anniversary” in Turkey.  

And I guess that would all be good and well except for the fact that his father appears to be about 130 years old in the commercial.  Seriously, his company should be paying him a pension as opposed to sending him off to live in one of the most oppressive countries ever.  His wife only appears to be 120 but that still means that she was probably in her 90s when she gave birth to her smug little mass murderer of a son.  He owes her a lot more than just some nasty, germ-filled seats from “the old stadium.”

You know what would have made this commercial a lot more effective and enjoyable?  If the seats from the old stadium had arrived with a few dozen bags of hash taped to the back of them.   And then we could have watched that 130 year-old man try to smuggle them back to the United States just to then get caught right before boarding the flight back home.

Call it Citibank Express.