I wasn't sure. I thought the old guy on the moon in John Lewis' latest Christmas movie was supposed to be Father Christmas?

Girl with the telescope spies grey-haired old man on lunar landscape and decides, though several attempts fail, to get a message to him.

We watch the action unfold, the bored, disinterested brother, the frantic attempts of the little girl to connect with the elderly man on the satellite. The whole scenario unravels to music. This year Oasis' Half The World Away covered by Norwegian band Aurora, and there is a further clue in the chosen soundtrack.

Yeah, it's mushy sentimentality, cute little girl, sparkly tinsel, Christmas tree erected. The charming, young and excited female trying to connect with the man on the moon – okay, it's a cliché, but look closer?

Of course, it all contrasts. The beautiful, bright colours of Christmas and the grey, lunar loneliness of the old gent with nothing but a nondescript hut and a park bench to keep him amused.

For those of us concerned with such things, Lewis's man on the moon ad, perhaps, has far deeper significance. In a world where one billion of us Facebook per day (Facebook's claim not mine), increasing numbers of people are living alone. In some areas of the UK as many as 50 per cent or more of households are one person residencies.

It creates a monster paradox : in a time when we are more globally connected than ever, loneliness has never been greater.

So, and this is the cynical me, are we being persuaded in a subtle, but cosy Christmassy way, to reach out this holiday to those living alone? Are we to mind our elderly neighbours and not leave them out of the festivities?

'Happy holiday Mr Parminter, it's me, your neighbour!' You stand there with a few piping hot mince pies.

'Sod off or I'll call the police, I've seen your lot on Crimewatch.'

Door slams in face.

The ad itself took seven months and cost a staggering £7 million to make over its two minute duration, that's what...£54,000 per second?

In the final scene a Christmas present tied in ribbons and carried across space by balloons land in the old man's hand. In that moment, with the nation in tears, I have an inkling that the old man bears an uncanny resemblance to an ageing Doctor Who?

So, that's how it all ends?