At first glance, this image of a DJ working the turntables, with a cleavage-baring admirer looking on, seems uncomplicated: Smirnoff promises a fun, sexy time. However, a closer examination of the mise en scéne yields some instant problems.
There are no records on the turntables.
There’s not a mat on the turntables.
There’s no visible DJ mixer.
The gesture — hands posed over both turntables — doesn’t make sense.
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