Marc Anthony - “I Need To Know”

  We start out with what might be Enya playing a violin (apparently she showed up at the wrong recording studio), then we have a bit with Marc and what we’ll assume is Baby Girl talking and flirting in some place where the electricity isn’t working (well, at least not the kind that powers the lights), and finally we’re on a stage while Marc starts performing the song. We’ll be here a bit, so you can get comfortable.

  Because it’s very important to the story, we get close-up shots of Marc’s backup dancers, a bevy of lovelies wearing what can only be described as feline-inspired minimalist couture. (They even appear to have tails, so apparently somebody finds that sexy.) We get random shots of people gyrating in the audience, with belly buttons here and arched backs there. But we’re really supposed to be paying attention to Baby Girl, who likes to wave her hands in the air to a different song.

  As mentioned, this section goes on for a bit, so the Cat Girls do their best to keep us entertained, performing some low-challenge choreography that basically consists of them taking two tiny steps and then assuming another sultry pose. (Oh, and they like to touch Marc, a lot, constantly racing up to caress one of his body parts and then dashing back to the chorus line.)

  Baby Girl, for her part, continues to dance to that other song, but at least she appears to be having a good time, so we’ll just let her keep doing that. Based on the way the rest of the audience keeps writhing about and pawing at each other, I’m guessing we’re not at a Christian fundamentalist board meeting. Then again, maybe we are, I don’t really keep tabs on what those people might be up to these days.

  Oh wait, now we’re some place that might be an apartment, where Marc is standing near a window, wailing away, while Baby Girl is wallering around on a bed. The sheets must feel really good to her, because she’s inspired to touch herself and make pouty faces. Then she parades around in the sheet for a little bit, so she might have misplaced her clothing. Sadly, she can’t ask Marc for some tips on where her panties might be, because he won’t quit singing the song long enough for her to get a word in.

  Then we’re back at the concert for more of that business, what with the Cat Girls parading around in their catnip outfits, Marc crooning seductively into a microphone while still managing to allow his shirt to flap open so we can see his flat belly, and Baby Girl doing the lambada with lots of men in the audience who are not Marc, so she might be a little bit of a tramp.

  Back to the apartment. Marc is still invested in singing the song and not paying attention to Baby Girl, so she starts to look a little blue, wondering if maybe she shouldn’t have changed her Facebook status to “in a relationship”. But before she can attend a couple’s therapy session, we cut to a murky stairwell somewhere, with Baby Girl and… I’m not sure who he is, might be Marc, might not. They are too busy canoodling with each other for me to get a real good look.

  Then we have another extended concert sequence, but we already know what’s happening over here, and it’s more of the same, what with the Cat Girls and the overheated audience. They throw in some snippets of other things that we’ve already seen as well, like Marc singing to the window instead of his maybe girlfriend, and Baby Girl pretending that having sex on a staircase is not uncomfortable at all.

  We wind things down with Baby Girl climbing up what might be a fire escape or just a really interesting entrance to a nightclub in a place where it rains a lot. Marc is nearby, still singing and not helping Baby Girl climb like a real gentleman would do. He’s making hand gestures like his heart is broken over Baby Girl leaving him all alone, but she’s looking at him like, dude, what are you talking about? Quit singing and get your ass up the stairs.

  But he doesn’t, choosing instead to stand there in the rain because the really dramatic finale of the song is coming up, and he knows that he looks good all wet and yearning. Baby Girl just sighs and goes inside to see if there’s anything decent on TV.


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Pitbull, Marc Anthony - “Rain Over Me”

We start out with aerial shots of some desert, with a nice sports car racing along in the blowing sand and dust. We don’t know where the car is headed, but since it’s the desert, it’s most likely not anywhere fun and I’m already losing interest. Cut to a woman staring out a window, her lips all pouty and freshly-painted. Then we suddenly have Marc sitting on a green couch and bellowing the words with an intensity that usually indicates someone needs gallbladder surgery.

Wait, why is Marc starting off Pitbull’s song? Is this going to be another example where the featured artist actually does all the work, and the “main artist” basically sits around in a chair, drinking beer and hollering “that’s right, uh huh” after every chorus? Hmm. We’ll see.

Wait, there’s Pitbull, standing all alone in a patch of cracked ground. He’s got his arms out like he’s ready to meet Jesus, but before we can see if that really happens, we’re back with that car racing to nowhere, then with Marc on that couch, bouncing around and sucking back what I would hope is a nice glass of gin. Meanwhile, Pouty-Lip girl is still standing at the window, apparently unimpressed that Marc can sing and drink at the same time.

Cut to a woman in the desert wearing a pointless dress that is sheer enough we can check on the outcome of her latest waxing. She’s walking away from a perfectly good bottle of vodka sitting on the sand, so you know her priorities are messed up. Before we can ask her what her problem is, we start doing this split-screen thing with Marc and Pitbull. Marc is still sitting on that couch (did they not have a very big budget for this shoot?) and Pitbull is still tromping around in the desert all alone, wearing a suit and his trademark attitude that Jesus should be coming to meet him.

Now there’s another girl, or maybe one of the same ones, it’s really unclear, is fiddling with some sunglasses and appearing to wantonly need something. We don’t have time to get her story, either, before we’re back with Pitbull and his arid hand gestures. Gauzy dress woman comes waltzing up to him, because strangers appearing out of nowhere happens all the time in the desert.

Well, maybe they’re not strangers after all, since Pitbull starts fondling her like he desperately needs to set the oven to 350 degrees. (We get some jump shots of just Pitbull, smirking and very proud of the fact that he just touched some breasts.) Then he’s groping her some more, pretending like it’s a sexy dance, and she’s accepting the groping and smiling to indicate her readiness for plunder, pretending like she doesn’t mind that she now has sand everywhere sand shouldn’t be.

Back to Marc and Pouty for a bit, just so we can be assured they are still drinking and sweating, then we spend some time with a woman who feels its perfectly normal to let a snake crawl all over her body. (I guess she went to a different kind of school than I did.) Then we get to a bit where Pit and Marc are singing together in the desert while the sun lowers behind them. Well, somebody’s singing, let’s put it that way. The other one feels that all he really needs to do is wear sunglasses and the world will love him.

Eventually we have Pitbull encountering another woman wearing a billowing dress who wants nothing more than to have Pitbull touch her inappropriately, followed by some girl swimming underwater. It turns out she’s only doing this so she can break the surface of the water and make herself look just like the promo shots for Wild Things back in the day. (Except that she’s clearly not Denise Richards and probably won’t be marrying Charlie Sheen.)

This doesn’t stop the woman from staring wetly at us forever, waving one of her arms about in a manner that she apparently thinks is sexy, but actually makes her look like Helen Keller on a bender.

Somebody crosses their legs just right, and suddenly we’re someplace very dark, with an interesting image of rain-drenched Marc and/or Pitbull playing on a screen while yet another female gyrates in front of it, doing an interpretive dance of the Stock Market on a very busy day. Just to make sure we don’t forget that all women can’t help but want these two men, we have jump shots of Wet Girl being joined in the pool by other girls who just want to stretch and paw at themselves in a frenzy of passion. (Or maybe it’s the chlorine fumes.)

Then we have a montage of Pitbull and Woman Number…. I don’t know, 84 or something, dancing together in the desert and having the best time despite the heat and the scorpions and the lack of anything moist for miles. Whoops, I guess Pitbull loses interest in her, because now he’s running his hands over another woman (wow, I never noticed that he has really small fingers) while she squirms seductively and he smiles at his own prowess.

This kicks off a veritable parade of women flouncing and bouncing in various scenes, with the central theme being “just dance around like you gotta have you some Pitbull even though you understand that he must be with hundreds of different women every night, never remembers any names, and sure as hell won‘t be signing anything”. Or something like that.

And finally we roll into a mix of everything we’ve seen so far, with revisits to Pitbull speaking the language of thrusting hips with a cavalcade of revolving beauties, Pitbull and Marc doing the “Couple’s Dance at Sunset” thing with both men believing that raising both hands and pointing your index fingers in different directions is very important, and then everybody, including a dance troupe that just happened to drive by, gathers in a part of the desert where it actually rains, and they all do a line dance about the joys of getting wet while wearing black.

Final shot is of Pitbull being lead to a helicopter, which then takes off across the sky. Did the Singing Police finally catch up with him?


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