February 16, 2007...4:31 am
Die whore?
Remember when Beyonce’ was a newbie soloist who charmed everyone in the world with her revisioning of how “uh oh” could sound? She was candy, but she had a voice, and a distinct enough look that I didn’t hate myself for liking her. She seemed kind of strong. She was pro-jiggle. She had an energy that was very “you should dance alone in your house to my album.” This song was in the same vein as Gwen Stefani’s “Bathwater.” Not great and difficult to claim in front of friends, but damn invigorating. And then she let Jay-Z blow her up.
Remember–she is so crazy in love that she is locked in a car, wrapped in her fur coat, and Jay-Z (umm, her (current?) partner, who, in a recent hit, goes on and on about how much he respects her and her work), drops a match and blows her up in the car? Is she supposed to be victimized streetwalker a la’ Klute? Is she not supposed to be in that car, and he is going to cry for the rest of his life? Or, is she his hot girlfriend that he thought would be hilarious to kill? Is love truly crazy, not when a song makes you want to bounce around until you pull a muscle, but only when you get to explode? Is love so crazy that a petit mort will no longer due? We need kerosene and matches?
That video left me wondering where the filter was for this. When did it become okay to kill a woman and, with the right lighting and soundtrack, make it seem artistic and dramatic–especially to songs that are being sold as bubblegum. When did this weird mix of shoddy narrative and pop hold up as good slick fun? I’m used to cliche’ video dramas–addiction, kids running away from home, abortion clinic waiting rooms, the intensities of jealousy, but it seems that in most cases, if there is an extreme outcome, we have a melodramatic and fully outlined reason for it. For example, Mary J. Blige and Ludacris’s video for “Runaway,” or any Aerosmith video. How did Beyonce’ not have one single person in her entourage, business management, or even make-up crew not look at this video and say a good old fashioned “What the?” and then, ask as if everything was this logical “if you get blown up in your first video, how can you come back to make more?” Or maybe everybody was in a tizzy, thinking “I think that Jay’Z is really into you…but maybe he shouldn’t murder you in this video then–what do you think?”
But no, it wasn’t just the Beyonce’ Inc. folk that were crazy and blind. Somebody, or perhaps the artist himself, thought that a similarly distasteful theme would be awesome for the Toby Keith video “It’s a Little too Late.” In this gem of cinema, Keith croons as he bricks his girlfriend into the basement–she is also bound and gagged as he does this. He looks remorseful as he does the bricking, but, he is damn casual and he seals her to her fate. We’re supposed to forgive all icky Edgar Allen Poe feelings (with none of the delicious gothic ick) that are induced by Keith’s malice, because in the end, the joke’s on him. In a delightful (er, vomitous) According to Jimesque twist, it turns out good ol’ Keith was accidentally bricking himself in. Girlfriend proves herself resourceful, frees herself, and so, who’s the jackass now? Keith still is. It doesn’t matter what happens in the end if you were killing your girlfriend for treating you bad, in your estimation. It doesn’t matter if you kill yourself accidentally, and it really doesn’t matter if you want to pretend that it is a really important metaphor you and the director came up with–I don’t know, about emotions and vulnerability or something. It’s creepy that it comes off as a joke, especially because Keith revels in his directness and his all American male identity. This video should be a big warning to all the gals out there that Toby Keith is a psychopath. Instead, he is supposed to come off as sheepish, hunky, and lonely.
I never thought that Justin Timberlake would want to take notes from corny Toby Keith, but he has. In his latest video–you know, the one with the Scarlett Johannson look alike (oh, wait, it’s actually her–when did she start looking like her own look alike?), the very dramatic lesson arises that if you (a lady friend) are mean to a boy, you should die. Little lady blondie (Scarlett–who must be trying to get people to see her as musically involved and ready to pony up for her forthcoming album of Tom Waits covers–believe me, a whole other post…), is tough as nails, but also smoking hot, and Justin (trying to get people to see his acting chops) has a bunch of dialogue picking her up. They fall in some kind of lust, and of course, he leaves town with the classic “can you watch over her?” line to his, of course, very trusted friend–who happens to sound and look a lot like a douchebag that would never get any tough smoking hot lady (unless she always falls for douchebags (if you’re one of these ladies, you probably don’t know who you are, but your friends do). Anyways, of course they end up in cheat city, and Timberlake catches them, gets mad, and of all things, he and his lady end up in a wild car chase (both in their smoking hot cars).
Blondie is very much in a “get away from me, don’t touch me, you don’t understand” mood, and it could be Ione Skye driving away from sad Lloyd in Say Anything, except that Justin is roaring after her, and they both seem drunk or on pills. Of course, its not drugs, it’s heavy real life raging emotions that we can’t understand unless we’ve been there. So, these emotions are so heavy that Blondie loses her shit and crashes her car. This is all while the lyrics go on and on about now the whoever the girl left the guy for is treating her the same way she treated him (you know, what goes around comes around–it is really really perfect), except aparently in the video that doesn’t mean getting cheated on by your next partner. Uh uh–it means crashing your car so it that lands in a fiery ball, and then you get perfectly flung from the car and end up flat on the asphalt as a perfectly groomed corpse. If you cheat on Justin, it turns out that your deserve to die–and he gets to ape tragic and walk up to your body as the sun rises or sets, I’m not sure. I’m tempted to make a bad joke about Britney’s crap marriage after breaking up with Justin, but well–it isn’t even a joke, just a bad pun. The word wreck does makes sense. Hmm. Heads up Cameron. You too Biel. Maybe you too Blondie, if the rumors are true. At least”Cry me a river” was creepy and weepy in a “isn’t Justin fucked up now” kind of way that most of us could relate to. This new video is just flat out offensive. Same goes for you Keith. Beyonce’, you too.
So why is it cool to kill the girl? Does it add an instant gravitas that won’t demand too much examination? People throw a fit because two men jokingly kiss on a Snickers commercial, but nobody minds that top videos–the ones that actually get played in the short minutes when the music channels play music–pointlessly and romantically kill women. The weird thing is that I’m not over stating anything, which usually happens when using words like “kill, blow up, etc.” are used.
It’s weird that this not only okay, but cool. I don’t get it. I don’t see the art. I don’t see the joke. I don’t see the cool. I only see fucked up grasps at making weak melodrama to make music seem more resonant, and it’s scary that this is a go-to storyline that is okayed by all the minds in the process.
So, do you dance to the songs (well, besides icky Toby), or buy the CDs? Its the old (recently old) Target conundrum. Do I give Target my money, even though they are jackasses about giving their pharmacists the right to deny medication because of moral reasons? I love shopping there, but that bothers me. I like shaking booty to Mr. Timberlake and Ms. Irreplaceable. Beyonce’ is kind of all right because she came back from getting blown up and got all fiesty (even though she certainly plays the lost crazy look card a lot). Maybe if Timberlake lets a girl blow him up in his next video, I’d be willing to reconsider. Maybe not.
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