We start out with Danny trotting into an empty warehouse and sitting down in a single chair to sing his song. I’m not sure where everybody else is, but we’ll let that go for now. Oh look, Danny’s singing directly to the camera, tight shot, so either he really loves us or just wants us to see his cool glasses. The camera keeps pulling back in a long shot, as if the cameraman is also wondering what happened to the audience. Poor Danny. He lonely.
Now we have a flashback to some child’s birthday party back in the day. Danny appears to be one of those cute little urchins with a bowl cut, but he has that slightly over-invested look about him that means he’ll either turn out to be President of the United States or a serial killer. Cut back to present-day Danny, standing in front of some ginormous windows and looking away from us. This is kind of rude. We’re the only folks who showed up, so you’d think he’d pay a little more attention to details like eye contact and free alcoholic beverages.
Then we start jumping around to various scenes, with most of them having been set up just so someone can write pithy slogans to make us feel better about life. That’s sweet and all, and the words are very inspirational, but we haven’t gotten a good look at the rest of Danny’s outfit, and I’d like to get back to that. Besides, you can only take so much "Up with People!" cheerleader banners before you have to resort to recreational drugs as an escape mechanism.
Okay, Danny is finally facing us, yay, but he’s insisting on waving his hands around. Does he need to go to the bathroom? Is there a small plane trying to land in this warehouse? What gives? Wait, now we’re getting shots of a giant curtain at one end of the warehouse. Oh? What’s behind there? I hope it’s a present for us. Like some gift cards or an SUV. Because we’ve been a really good audience, and some form of compensation would be appreciated.
Danny also likes to touch his chest a lot. Maybe he has some really nice pecs, I don’t know, not having been asked to personally review them, but maybe he shouldn’t do that so much. Cut to Danny walking down a rain-slick street for no apparent reason. (Is he looking for the rest of the audience? A nice sushi bar?) Then the screen is suddenly filled with a cowboy jumping over some lethal-looking fireworks without losing his hat, which is a pleasing talent to have, but this imagery startles me much more than I think anyone intended. Don’t come flying at me without warning, especially if a tight shot of a crotch is involved.
There goes Danny with the hands again. Is he Italian? And now he’s back in front of the big curtain again, taunting me with the delicious possibilities that lie on the other side. Somebody has scribbled “Love Is…” on the curtain in an effort to distract us, but I don’t care what love is. I care about what’s behind door number 3. Especially if it’s for me.
More shots of Danny wandering aimlessly around the streets, and some grainy footage of him doing something near a white-brick wall. I suppose these things might be more fascinating when accompanied by adult beverages or some type of nudity, but when it’s just Danny and some rain, the experience doesn’t have quite the luster that was intended. But that warehouse would make a great loft for me, just as long as Danny doesn’t think he can come over any time he wants to sing when there’s nothing on TV.
Now it’s night time, and Danny has been let loose on the city again. He’s still marching around and singing, and, of course, we have more slogans to think about during the less interesting parts of the song. We keep jumping from busy streets to an empty field where Danny is standing (with people still not showing up, which is sad), but at least Danny seems to be having a good time, and that’s all that really matters. (Well, that and food. Food is important. Eat some now!)
And we wind the song down with Danny in that empty field, wailing away the final words and spreading his arms to show that he loves the entire world. Then he turns and gives us a slightly-smirky look. Aww, he cute.
But where the hell is my present?
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