It's true that the human being is in almost constant pain, but different experiences of pain linger longer than others. When I was only a boy-pirate, t.b.-fully-qualified -pirate in training, my mum (who was not a pirate) made me go to school in checked trousers and a waistcoat. Only once, in truth, but once was more than enough.
Exactly 3 minutes into this ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpf4b1_u7Zg ) and you get a summation of how I felt on that lonely, terrible day.
Of course, the video isn't an attempt to bludgeon electro-pop fans into dressing up as samurai for the nightly 9.55 dash to Spar, rather an attempt to create larger than life visual profiles to set against the other simpler, naturalistic bands and videos of the time. Doubtless the outfits were designed, re-designed, painstakingly intellectualised and referenced, worn for the actual live-in motion and shape.
But at that 3 minute mark... well, you write the caption. To my mind, it's either two city merchants who've been kidnapped by radicalised fashion students and whose spouses couldn't be bothered to mail the ransom inbetween Sky+ing George Gently and lambasting the Asda delivary man for the colour of his uniform, or two men both convinced that what they've ended up wearing was what the other really wanted to end up in, with both of them too polite to critique the other's taste in t'reads.
In any case, they're idiots.
Monday, 7 July 2008
Sunday, 1 June 2008
How to Make Grainy and Influence People
Whenever this Pirate's ladyfriend goes in a bad mood, she cleans. Each angry-clean has its roots in some externally sourced misdemeanour (although it's hard to think of I time I myself precipitated such an event, being largely flawless and all) but the cause is instantly moot - what's important is that it starts a protracted period of barely concealable tense one-upmanship, where we both try to do a small but significantly greater amount of domestic chores than our temporary rival. If she 'wins', then I have to concede that I really don't do enough of anything at all. If I come out on top, then we make a cup of tea and watch the Eastenders omnibus.
Before it seems like I'm spamming relationship curios for personal therapy, I should explain that some subtler lessons lie within. Firstly, given that I find it near impossible to spot any urgent domestic tasks until they've become either a massive red flag or of unholy sentience, it's also near impossible for me to avoid each angry-clean; I simply have to spot the first signs of the kick off as soon as possible.
It's also important not to try too hard during the competition - whatever the reason for mobilising the Cif, the fact that there's a lot of previously ignored debris for it to be used on is reason enough for at least a little humble humility, and a 'win' in her favour almost every time. Grandstanding with the toaster polish while she's still dusting the aquarium would be taking the Michael, and would not go unnoticed.
So, if you ever meet the (god willing) future Mrs Pirate and you've left the plates under the couch again, read the signs, and act natural. Here endeth the lesson. But what oh what does any of this have to do with music videos? Weeell, it MIGHT have a bit to do with Chris Coldplay Martin's new single, "Violet Hill" and the videos that accompany it's release. Videos? Videos. In that, accompanying the official MV, there's a heelareeous 'Viral' that'll surely be viral-ing it's way into your 'comedy-forwards' folder any day now. Or not. More on that later, though.
The song itself is rather good, and, despite not being a massive Chrisplay fan, I found it effecting, while still being easy to listen to - no mean trick, really. It still sounds like a Coldplay record, but, for all the familiarity, the marching beat that plays as the track's main hook has a militaristic feel that marks a subtle change in direction, and underpins the theme of the haggard combatant driven forward in a war he never wanted to be part of, by human powers he can't relate to. I certainly found it hard to understand the lyrics sometimes (aha ha yes), what with Coldchris's penchant for mumbling through large parts of verse, but it still didn't diminish my enjoyment.
But to the meat, and the official video. It'd be easy to tag this one as bland, and bland in the way that so much of what Chris Coldplay and those other guys have blanded it up in the past. The costumes, while stylish with their ragged military-deserter chic, are bland; the grainy home video colour and tone is bland on a number of levels, and the whole exercise seems to be largely devoid of any point. Of course, music videos exist largely to convey a style and provide an image of the band presented, as opposed to 'begin, middle, and end' some kind of story, but, in this case, it just seems be almost explicitly pointless. Which is maybe the point. Is it? Possibly...
But it's probably the attempts to rescue the video from blandness and instill it with some sort of character that ultimately make it worth watching. For the most part, Chrisplay and the other Coldmartins dick about the place like a post-apocalyptic LARP group, who can only russle up a drum and an old piano for ordinance, much less find anyone else to LARP against. Music is surely their weapon. I'm dead already.
While the others are happily bland, the (I'm running out of juxtapositions for the main signer) really outdoes himself by improv acting a whole swathe of visual metaphors - he makes his mouth big with a magnifying glass, tries to break through your telly with an invisible hammer (reach me ChrisColdplayMartin! Reach me!), and even teleports a bit at the start (though he should really take a few tips from the Girls Aloud!, who've had celebrity teleportation sewn up for a while now), all the while dancing the Rubbish Patlabor in such a way that would make even the Timberlake swoon. Of course, the others do TRY - the bald one lifts a stone at one point - but not enough to shine quite as hard as the Coldest of Martins does.
All of which actually makes it an enjoyable, if ultimately forgettable, MV. More to the point though, it successfully dodges having to be explicit about who the song might be referring to, and that's fine - while still trying to carry an important idea, it doesn't really force anything on the viewer (beyond the lead singer and his bowing fits). Perhaps that's a shrewd move, what with the prolonged backlash against celebrity campaigners, who, for all their good intentions, often shout what we all know a little to loudly. Somebody should've told whoever made the rib-tickling 2nd 'viral', because, in reference to my (probably forgotten) domestic situation, and, like the perfect storm in the worst possible instance of that situation, it not only arrives far to late to the party, but tries far far FAR too hard for the winning post.
The viral alternative consists of lots of archive footage of politicians and military figures dancing in time to the music. Because they're all idiots, you see. It even goes so far as to trot out the old "Bush is a Monkey" chestnut. Which is fine, because he IS an idiot, but the joke is so, so old that it's embarrassing to see it being trotted out, especially as if it were part of some sort of fresh, counter-culture stab. In fact, this kind laziness is rife throughout the entire video. Take a good look at the politicians 'shamed' throughout.
Notice anything? Hardly any of them are really very current at all. Blair and Bush are either gone or going, Boris Yeltsin is dead. Obama and Clinton are pretty current, but where's John McCain? And if it's ok to parody future leaders, where are Cameron or Clegg, or our current PM? Probably affect record sales if you brought them in, mind. Boris Yeltsin?! Where's Vladamir Putin?! Saddam Hussien's dead, so he won't come after you, but any Middle Eastern leaders in there? What about leaders from the African continent who refused to do anything about Robert Mugabe postponing and presumably rigging the Zimbabwean election results? Doesn't merit a mention? Boris Yeltsin?!
I'm sure there's a basketful of explanations for why there are hardly any current politicians in the video, but the most honest would probably be that they just couldn't find any footage of any of them dancing. And politicians dancing? Oh So Chucklesome, surely, but it's all too easy to point and laugh when they do something wrong while enjoying that sense of comfy superiority, that "I wouldn't have done THAT", that typifies the public reaction to a fall from grace. Sure, some politicians are idiots, some are dangerous idiots and some are just dangerous, but a more difficult poser to virulate would've been to ask why anybody would want to take on the responsibility in the first place, and whether we, in their place, could really do as good a job as we think we can. Or we could just ignore that one altogether, eh readers?
Before it seems like I'm spamming relationship curios for personal therapy, I should explain that some subtler lessons lie within. Firstly, given that I find it near impossible to spot any urgent domestic tasks until they've become either a massive red flag or of unholy sentience, it's also near impossible for me to avoid each angry-clean; I simply have to spot the first signs of the kick off as soon as possible.
It's also important not to try too hard during the competition - whatever the reason for mobilising the Cif, the fact that there's a lot of previously ignored debris for it to be used on is reason enough for at least a little humble humility, and a 'win' in her favour almost every time. Grandstanding with the toaster polish while she's still dusting the aquarium would be taking the Michael, and would not go unnoticed.
So, if you ever meet the (god willing) future Mrs Pirate and you've left the plates under the couch again, read the signs, and act natural. Here endeth the lesson. But what oh what does any of this have to do with music videos? Weeell, it MIGHT have a bit to do with Chris Coldplay Martin's new single, "Violet Hill" and the videos that accompany it's release. Videos? Videos. In that, accompanying the official MV, there's a heelareeous 'Viral' that'll surely be viral-ing it's way into your 'comedy-forwards' folder any day now. Or not. More on that later, though.
The song itself is rather good, and, despite not being a massive Chrisplay fan, I found it effecting, while still being easy to listen to - no mean trick, really. It still sounds like a Coldplay record, but, for all the familiarity, the marching beat that plays as the track's main hook has a militaristic feel that marks a subtle change in direction, and underpins the theme of the haggard combatant driven forward in a war he never wanted to be part of, by human powers he can't relate to. I certainly found it hard to understand the lyrics sometimes (aha ha yes), what with Coldchris's penchant for mumbling through large parts of verse, but it still didn't diminish my enjoyment.
But to the meat, and the official video. It'd be easy to tag this one as bland, and bland in the way that so much of what Chris Coldplay and those other guys have blanded it up in the past. The costumes, while stylish with their ragged military-deserter chic, are bland; the grainy home video colour and tone is bland on a number of levels, and the whole exercise seems to be largely devoid of any point. Of course, music videos exist largely to convey a style and provide an image of the band presented, as opposed to 'begin, middle, and end' some kind of story, but, in this case, it just seems be almost explicitly pointless. Which is maybe the point. Is it? Possibly...
But it's probably the attempts to rescue the video from blandness and instill it with some sort of character that ultimately make it worth watching. For the most part, Chrisplay and the other Coldmartins dick about the place like a post-apocalyptic LARP group, who can only russle up a drum and an old piano for ordinance, much less find anyone else to LARP against. Music is surely their weapon. I'm dead already.
While the others are happily bland, the (I'm running out of juxtapositions for the main signer) really outdoes himself by improv acting a whole swathe of visual metaphors - he makes his mouth big with a magnifying glass, tries to break through your telly with an invisible hammer (reach me ChrisColdplayMartin! Reach me!), and even teleports a bit at the start (though he should really take a few tips from the Girls Aloud!, who've had celebrity teleportation sewn up for a while now), all the while dancing the Rubbish Patlabor in such a way that would make even the Timberlake swoon. Of course, the others do TRY - the bald one lifts a stone at one point - but not enough to shine quite as hard as the Coldest of Martins does.
All of which actually makes it an enjoyable, if ultimately forgettable, MV. More to the point though, it successfully dodges having to be explicit about who the song might be referring to, and that's fine - while still trying to carry an important idea, it doesn't really force anything on the viewer (beyond the lead singer and his bowing fits). Perhaps that's a shrewd move, what with the prolonged backlash against celebrity campaigners, who, for all their good intentions, often shout what we all know a little to loudly. Somebody should've told whoever made the rib-tickling 2nd 'viral', because, in reference to my (probably forgotten) domestic situation, and, like the perfect storm in the worst possible instance of that situation, it not only arrives far to late to the party, but tries far far FAR too hard for the winning post.
The viral alternative consists of lots of archive footage of politicians and military figures dancing in time to the music. Because they're all idiots, you see. It even goes so far as to trot out the old "Bush is a Monkey" chestnut. Which is fine, because he IS an idiot, but the joke is so, so old that it's embarrassing to see it being trotted out, especially as if it were part of some sort of fresh, counter-culture stab. In fact, this kind laziness is rife throughout the entire video. Take a good look at the politicians 'shamed' throughout.
Notice anything? Hardly any of them are really very current at all. Blair and Bush are either gone or going, Boris Yeltsin is dead. Obama and Clinton are pretty current, but where's John McCain? And if it's ok to parody future leaders, where are Cameron or Clegg, or our current PM? Probably affect record sales if you brought them in, mind. Boris Yeltsin?! Where's Vladamir Putin?! Saddam Hussien's dead, so he won't come after you, but any Middle Eastern leaders in there? What about leaders from the African continent who refused to do anything about Robert Mugabe postponing and presumably rigging the Zimbabwean election results? Doesn't merit a mention? Boris Yeltsin?!
I'm sure there's a basketful of explanations for why there are hardly any current politicians in the video, but the most honest would probably be that they just couldn't find any footage of any of them dancing. And politicians dancing? Oh So Chucklesome, surely, but it's all too easy to point and laugh when they do something wrong while enjoying that sense of comfy superiority, that "I wouldn't have done THAT", that typifies the public reaction to a fall from grace. Sure, some politicians are idiots, some are dangerous idiots and some are just dangerous, but a more difficult poser to virulate would've been to ask why anybody would want to take on the responsibility in the first place, and whether we, in their place, could really do as good a job as we think we can. Or we could just ignore that one altogether, eh readers?
Wednesday, 16 April 2008
In Which Avril Lavigne is Most Certainly Not Compared to the Fuhrer.
Hooray! Because Avril Lavigne's back, and she's really sticking it to those princesses out there. The video for her new single, The Best Damn Thing, features all of your favourite Avril highjinks; the singer herself dances and shouts a bit, overemphasises the drama 101 staples of vulnerable, angry, stupid etc, and 'plays the drums' because she's a bit different to everyone else. The gaggle of obligatory happy emos who always seem to have such a roaring time pandering to Avril's dull wildness are present and correct, though not to the same extent as previous videos - they're achingly happy just to play band in the background this time. And, of course, the lazy references to America's obsession with the teen princess are there too. Next video, please.
Or that SHOULD be the end of it. So what's got the heckles up?
Weeeell, Avril's undergone a bit of branding. In case you didn't notice it (maybe you were watching the braille version of this one), it's that clever big Anarchy A, in a heart. Clever. Thing is, when your pitching yourself fundamentally, and still very presently, as someone against everything that's vacuous and shallow about teen culture, then subsequently branding yourself...well, that's just Damn Stupid.
And branding yourself with the symbol of Anarchy? In a heart? What do you mean, Avril?! What are you trying to tell us? Is love anarchy? Do you love anarchy? Is to love you to love anarchy? Or is it just because your name begins with an A, and you were googling your name one day, and you found a site of rubbish fanfiction where you led the storming of the Bastille with the cast of Stargate SG1, and you convinced yourself that that actually probobly happened, so you decided to use that cool A you saw on a bus stop the one time you actually had to use public transport (because you're no princess) because that's KEWL and subversive as well LOL.
Ok, so this might all seem a bit harsh, but the Lavigne lost any of those Irony as a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card/ "oh she's just a teenager singing songs for teenagers so stop taking it all so serious you unemployed boatman" arguments when she pitched up with the video for "Girlfriend", which simply advocated the systematic bullying of a peer in order to get what-you don't-have. Of course, she overacts as the bullied party as well, but it's employment in the video is as weak an argument for Avril understanding the other side of the coin as Hitler suggesting that he whaled on other countries in the 40's because someone laughed at his painting prowess when he were a lad. Not that I'm comparing Avril Lavigne to Hitler (he liked the order, for one thing), but seriously, I defy anyone to watch "Girlfriend" and come back with an ironclad point by point FAQ detailing how it isn't some turgid advert for torturing your peers for personal gain. Damn anyone who even tries.
Or that SHOULD be the end of it. So what's got the heckles up?
Weeeell, Avril's undergone a bit of branding. In case you didn't notice it (maybe you were watching the braille version of this one), it's that clever big Anarchy A, in a heart. Clever. Thing is, when your pitching yourself fundamentally, and still very presently, as someone against everything that's vacuous and shallow about teen culture, then subsequently branding yourself...well, that's just Damn Stupid.
And when it's stacked up against other standard MV fare, it's Pretty Damn Conventional. Three wardrobe changes? Yes. Distinct choreographed dance/with the band/artist alone sections? Yes. Has it made the choice between being sorrowful ("singing about tragic things in my life") and upbeat ("I'm sexy and brilliant")? Yes. Anarchy!
And branding yourself with the symbol of Anarchy? In a heart? What do you mean, Avril?! What are you trying to tell us? Is love anarchy? Do you love anarchy? Is to love you to love anarchy? Or is it just because your name begins with an A, and you were googling your name one day, and you found a site of rubbish fanfiction where you led the storming of the Bastille with the cast of Stargate SG1, and you convinced yourself that that actually probobly happened, so you decided to use that cool A you saw on a bus stop the one time you actually had to use public transport (because you're no princess) because that's KEWL and subversive as well LOL.
Ok, so this might all seem a bit harsh, but the Lavigne lost any of those Irony as a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card/ "oh she's just a teenager singing songs for teenagers so stop taking it all so serious you unemployed boatman" arguments when she pitched up with the video for "Girlfriend", which simply advocated the systematic bullying of a peer in order to get what-you don't-have. Of course, she overacts as the bullied party as well, but it's employment in the video is as weak an argument for Avril understanding the other side of the coin as Hitler suggesting that he whaled on other countries in the 40's because someone laughed at his painting prowess when he were a lad. Not that I'm comparing Avril Lavigne to Hitler (he liked the order, for one thing), but seriously, I defy anyone to watch "Girlfriend" and come back with an ironclad point by point FAQ detailing how it isn't some turgid advert for torturing your peers for personal gain. Damn anyone who even tries.
Sunday, 13 April 2008
You're Never Too Big for the Polygonic Irrelevance Mist
Ahoy! As this is my first review, I'll level with you. I don't generally work on these alone. I'm not a celebrity, so I'm therefore unemployed, and what else would an unemployed pirate of holidays do other than frequent an entry level, stripper-free gentleman's club? It's quite tame, really; the Hula Hoops are only 20p, but the television lost its buttons to a one sided fight with a drunken Mr Ratburn eons ago, and so now the only channel we get is The Hits on Freeview.
Fair enough; music videos are a vastly under appreciated format, and also make ideal text-fodder. Essentially, the producer/director/whatever has to sum up the artist, as well as the track they're directing for, in (generally) under four minutes, which is an almost perfect canvas - enough time to convey enough ideas, aesthetics etc. to carry the track, but not too prolonged to subsequently force anything too labourious on the audience.
This also serves to make them more immediately affecting, annoying, humourous or even thought-provoking than a lot of other media. Truth be told, though, they're more often than not either infuriating or unintentionally funny. Or both. Which is where this blog comes in.
Yep, this blog is usually written post-conversation with the good men of the Pie Club (being the name of our one-channel haunt), so all credit to them. They're usually fairly heated debates, too - John Virgo almost killed a man arguing the positive merits of The Girls Aloud's improv choreography skills. But an unusual, almost zen like calm swept the TV room this morning as the club's men came to an unprecedented agreement - Madonna's new video sucks.
And HOW it does suck. Shall I count the ways? I certainly have the time, unlike the aforementioned movie, which went to great pains to express how little time it actually had to convey its message. Of course, it's Timbaland who first makes the point, though in such a way that he seems to be suggesting that what follows in the four minutes he apparently has left is what he would consider an appropriate use of that time. Fine, if it's just that he has four spare minutes of tape to use up or something, but if a pointless collaboration with a geriatric contortionist and a boy who probably makes Gundam noises when he dances (i.e. Justin Timberlake) is the last wish of a dying man, then we all really have to start prescribing Gilgamesh style walkabouts to future generations as standard.
Whatever the motive, there's certainly a lot to take in. In fact, if you like Rubbish Big Non-Metaphorical Metaphors, then you'll love this video. Let's see; there's a massive digital clock and some black polygonic mist that seems to Incredible Cross Section everything; a car lot, a supermarket, and some soup (and some people kissing, but in a normal way that Madonna wouldn't bother with, which presumably makes it boring or something); a blink-and-you'll-miss-it office corridor, and a toilet scene where Madonna thinks she's big Justin, subsequently finding another excuse to take off more clothes. There's no plot to speak of, but whoever directed the video presumably intended one, so I'll try to find it.
Here's my best guess. After Timbaland's suggested that the following is pretty much all in his head and we're being treated to some sort of incredible Timbaland Mind Show, the curtain goes up. Madonna (who still looks incredibly young and sexy, don't you know) is pushing a car. Maybe she's doing that for fun, but more likely it's run out of gas - a RBN-MM for her career. Or Guy Ritchie. Anyway, she abandons the car (i.e. Guy Ritchie) and a chase ensues. Her pursuer is the big polygonic mist we spoke of, and she's followed through several modern-life-is-rubbish scenes, from a conventional family dinner table, to Frank Butcher's car lot. In running from the mist, she bumps into a potential companion (Doctor Who stylee) in Justin Timberlake, and they un-sexily proceed through the rest of the video, but not before the mist catches up and pointlessly Incredible Cross Sections them too. Like they jolly well deserve.
The mist is presumably a metaphor for death, but probobly more likely to be suggested as 'indifference' or 'irrelevance' or 'not doing anything with your day'. Fair enough. What I don't like is how, through it, the video seems to whale on eating soup, or having a bath, or kissing some one. I'm sorry I never realised there was a cool way to eat soup, or that eating soup or having a bath in themselves where testament to my life stagnating to the point of oblivion, but then that's presumably because I can't twist my leg round my head or dance like a rubbish Patlabor.
But there's hope, because there are plenty of suggestions buried within the video that'll help me - help us all - cast of the shackles of daily anthropological monotony. Why not climb through a window when leaving a building? Bet you never thought of that. Or race someone on a supermarket checkout? Wow! Crazy. I won't be doing that, because I'm not a attention seeking mentalist. Proven, in no small measure, by this blog...
Aaanyway, the whole thing comes to head as Madonna and J.T. bust some moves in front of the giant clock. Admittedly, the giant clock, constantly counting down behind some tighter choreography, could've been really impressive. But it's relatively forgotten, as whoever was in charge of editing tries to fit so many Cool Moves into the remainder of the piece that it becomes largely irrelevant. In fact, we suspect that it might've been the absence of these Cool Moves that lead to the decision to stop the viewer seeing anything for more than half a second.
Persist in hunting for them, though, because it's a treat. Not so much Madonna - she keeps thrusting at the camera as if we'd never seen her vagina before. But keep an eye on Justin in the background, who, once he's pulled a few trademarks, can only muster a spin, a epileptic cat pose and a shock!/Jazz hands combo (which is more than I could pull off, to be fair, but then that's because I'm too busy spooning prole-soup into my slacken'd jaw, wondering where my next bath is going to come from).
Then some more cross section stuff, and then it's over. Unless you've seen the album-promo edition, in which you're treated to some oh-so-never-seen-before suggestive typography, pitching Madonna (in another incredible disguise) as a potential Willy Wonka, with the promise of plenty of sexy candy (hooray) and not a lot else. What's disappointing is that the actual audio track, at points, suggests that this musical superteam were out to 'save the world', and yet, did nothing of the sort. They could only point out the omnipresent tediousness of our existences before they, too, were consumed by the polygonic swirl of time or irrelevance or something.
Well, except Timbaland. This was all in his head, remember?
Fair enough; music videos are a vastly under appreciated format, and also make ideal text-fodder. Essentially, the producer/director/whatever has to sum up the artist, as well as the track they're directing for, in (generally) under four minutes, which is an almost perfect canvas - enough time to convey enough ideas, aesthetics etc. to carry the track, but not too prolonged to subsequently force anything too labourious on the audience.
This also serves to make them more immediately affecting, annoying, humourous or even thought-provoking than a lot of other media. Truth be told, though, they're more often than not either infuriating or unintentionally funny. Or both. Which is where this blog comes in.
Yep, this blog is usually written post-conversation with the good men of the Pie Club (being the name of our one-channel haunt), so all credit to them. They're usually fairly heated debates, too - John Virgo almost killed a man arguing the positive merits of The Girls Aloud's improv choreography skills. But an unusual, almost zen like calm swept the TV room this morning as the club's men came to an unprecedented agreement - Madonna's new video sucks.
And HOW it does suck. Shall I count the ways? I certainly have the time, unlike the aforementioned movie, which went to great pains to express how little time it actually had to convey its message. Of course, it's Timbaland who first makes the point, though in such a way that he seems to be suggesting that what follows in the four minutes he apparently has left is what he would consider an appropriate use of that time. Fine, if it's just that he has four spare minutes of tape to use up or something, but if a pointless collaboration with a geriatric contortionist and a boy who probably makes Gundam noises when he dances (i.e. Justin Timberlake) is the last wish of a dying man, then we all really have to start prescribing Gilgamesh style walkabouts to future generations as standard.
Whatever the motive, there's certainly a lot to take in. In fact, if you like Rubbish Big Non-Metaphorical Metaphors, then you'll love this video. Let's see; there's a massive digital clock and some black polygonic mist that seems to Incredible Cross Section everything; a car lot, a supermarket, and some soup (and some people kissing, but in a normal way that Madonna wouldn't bother with, which presumably makes it boring or something); a blink-and-you'll-miss-it office corridor, and a toilet scene where Madonna thinks she's big Justin, subsequently finding another excuse to take off more clothes. There's no plot to speak of, but whoever directed the video presumably intended one, so I'll try to find it.
Here's my best guess. After Timbaland's suggested that the following is pretty much all in his head and we're being treated to some sort of incredible Timbaland Mind Show, the curtain goes up. Madonna (who still looks incredibly young and sexy, don't you know) is pushing a car. Maybe she's doing that for fun, but more likely it's run out of gas - a RBN-MM for her career. Or Guy Ritchie. Anyway, she abandons the car (i.e. Guy Ritchie) and a chase ensues. Her pursuer is the big polygonic mist we spoke of, and she's followed through several modern-life-is-rubbish scenes, from a conventional family dinner table, to Frank Butcher's car lot. In running from the mist, she bumps into a potential companion (Doctor Who stylee) in Justin Timberlake, and they un-sexily proceed through the rest of the video, but not before the mist catches up and pointlessly Incredible Cross Sections them too. Like they jolly well deserve.
The mist is presumably a metaphor for death, but probobly more likely to be suggested as 'indifference' or 'irrelevance' or 'not doing anything with your day'. Fair enough. What I don't like is how, through it, the video seems to whale on eating soup, or having a bath, or kissing some one. I'm sorry I never realised there was a cool way to eat soup, or that eating soup or having a bath in themselves where testament to my life stagnating to the point of oblivion, but then that's presumably because I can't twist my leg round my head or dance like a rubbish Patlabor.
But there's hope, because there are plenty of suggestions buried within the video that'll help me - help us all - cast of the shackles of daily anthropological monotony. Why not climb through a window when leaving a building? Bet you never thought of that. Or race someone on a supermarket checkout? Wow! Crazy. I won't be doing that, because I'm not a attention seeking mentalist. Proven, in no small measure, by this blog...
Aaanyway, the whole thing comes to head as Madonna and J.T. bust some moves in front of the giant clock. Admittedly, the giant clock, constantly counting down behind some tighter choreography, could've been really impressive. But it's relatively forgotten, as whoever was in charge of editing tries to fit so many Cool Moves into the remainder of the piece that it becomes largely irrelevant. In fact, we suspect that it might've been the absence of these Cool Moves that lead to the decision to stop the viewer seeing anything for more than half a second.
Persist in hunting for them, though, because it's a treat. Not so much Madonna - she keeps thrusting at the camera as if we'd never seen her vagina before. But keep an eye on Justin in the background, who, once he's pulled a few trademarks, can only muster a spin, a epileptic cat pose and a shock!/Jazz hands combo (which is more than I could pull off, to be fair, but then that's because I'm too busy spooning prole-soup into my slacken'd jaw, wondering where my next bath is going to come from).
Then some more cross section stuff, and then it's over. Unless you've seen the album-promo edition, in which you're treated to some oh-so-never-seen-before suggestive typography, pitching Madonna (in another incredible disguise) as a potential Willy Wonka, with the promise of plenty of sexy candy (hooray) and not a lot else. What's disappointing is that the actual audio track, at points, suggests that this musical superteam were out to 'save the world', and yet, did nothing of the sort. They could only point out the omnipresent tediousness of our existences before they, too, were consumed by the polygonic swirl of time or irrelevance or something.
Well, except Timbaland. This was all in his head, remember?
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