We start out with the lead singer up in some tower, rolling around in a chair so he can spy on folks and buildings with old-timey telescopes. (Already with the creepy, yes?) Cut to the band playing a gig in the middle of a traffic tunnel. (This is a very popular thing to do, based on how often it happens in music videos. I personally don’t get it, but I’m sure it’s enjoyable if you like that sort of thing.)
Back to the tower, where John the Possibly Crazy Scientist is still fiddling with his telescopes and peering downwards at who knows what. (He actually seems to be spending far more time rolling around in his little chair than actually peering into eyeholes, so he might not quite understand how this spying thing works.)
Both of the Johns start singing, which entertains us for a little bit, but this is the really slow part of the song so we hope things pick up shortly. Surely this isn’t how the entire video is going to go, with Tower Man twiddling and the band just standing there and blocking traffic. We need a meteor or zombies or a dramatic disregard for fashion. There’s going to be more to the story, right?
Well, maybe not. I mean, we do get to see a little more of the tower room, enough to realize that I really wouldn’t want to live there, not really fond of the décor. And the camera angle in the traffic tunnel widens a bit so that we can see actual cars driving through, slowly, as the occupants try to figure out why the hell there’s a band performing on the median. But the basic action is still the same: peering and playing.
Oh wait, maybe we’re finally getting something here. The scientist opens a door or some such, and leans over the side of the building, gazing downward. Is he planning to jump? That would be understandable, if his only other option is to go back inside with those damn telescopes. But no, he heads back into his Victorian laboratory, jacks around with an odd metal globe, and then snatches up some binoculars and begins to study something else he shouldn’t be looking at.
Then he’s back outside, back inside, back outside, rinse and repeat, all the while screwing with the telescopes and walking in a manner that allows his silk bathrobe to twirl prettily but still retain a bit of manly flair. He also leans against the window glass a few times, for variety, but this does not excite me in any way.
And the band? Still playing. In that tunnel. Not doing anything else.
Sigh. Come on guys, give me something to work with, here.
Hold up, new scene. Some folks are standing on the sidewalk of a street, looking up, even though the one lady should actually be looking in a mirror and realizing she needs to change her horrid outfit. Are they watching the indecisive scientist make up his mind about getting airborne? Maybe. But it’s raining where they’re standing, and the sun was shining back up in the Peeping Tom Penthouse. Was the film editor drunk, or is the tower so high that it’s in a different weather pattern?
The wet and ugly people go away for a while, so we can watch more of the band playing in the tunnel. They’re actually moving around a little bit now, trying to generate some excitement, but it’s far too little, too late. I am SO not clapping when they are done. And please don’t come back out for an encore, or I might have to join the scientist on his wishy-washy ledge. I can certainly help him come to a final decision.
Speaking of The Guy Who Can’t Make Up His Mind, we cut back to him as he’s sitting in his vintage office chair in the middle of the room, leaning his head back and spinning around while the camera also spins around, blurring things. This might be a tribute to the movie Vertigo. This might be drugs. No one is explaining anything.
Then the professional Looky Loo starts rolling all over the room in his chair, going faster and faster as the music amps up. Maybe he got a note from one of the producers that we have GOT to pick things up or we’re going to lose the Tokyo fans, because they like action and artful death. Then he goes back out on the ledge, and pauses. Really? Just flip a coin dude.
Cut to ugly, wet couple on the sidewalk, still looking up. I guess they don’t have real jobs like the rest of us. Maybe they used to be air traffic controllers.
And we’re back to a slow part of the song, which doesn’t bode well for Tokyo. The band members stand around while someone else apparently plays this bit, and we get wistful slo-mo images of the chair wheels turning in the tower. It’s like somebody tried filming a Sylvia Plath poem, but then went to get a burger and just left the camera running.
Whew, the music started jamming again just before it was time for Ophelia to float by in a river, and folks get lively once more. Of course, they’re still doing the same boring things they were previously, but at least they are moving. Suddenly, we get a brief glimpse of lead singer John marching rather quickly down the tunnel, away from the band. (Is he quitting? I would have at this point. Actually, I wouldn’t have been in the tunnel to begin with so I guess my opinion doesn’t matter.)
Nope, must have been a pee break, because John’s soon back with the band. (Or maybe he ran into his publicist at a hot dog stand and harsh words sent him scurrying back to play nice.) They jam for a bit more as the video winds down, then John takes off again as the song and the images start to fade.
Last shot is of the antique chair in the tower room, and it’s empty. Oh? Did the oddly-dressed man actually go through with it? Hmm. Maybe those air traffic controllers can catch him. That one girl looked pretty sturdy…
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