Fugees - “Killing Me Softly”

We start out with Lauryn Hill watching a movie in some theater. We can’t really tell what’s happening on the screen, but whatever is going on it inspires Lauryn to sing the lyrics of the song whilst shoving popcorn in her mouth and sporting a creative hairstyle. The clips on the screen look kind of tragic and sad, but Lauryn keeps grinning, so I guess it’s all good. Who knows.

Cut to outside the theater, where the marquee is proclaiming that the feature is “The Score - Starring the Fugees”. Oh? They made a movie? Didn’t know that. Based on the confused expressions of the people standing in line to get into the theater, they didn’t know it either, but this doesn’t stop them from wanting to get in. An SUV pulls up, and the members of the band pile out and run inside the theater, while they sing a part of the song that I’ve never heard before, so this must be the Director’s Cut of the video. These things happen.

Back inside the theater, the Fugees get all settled in with their snacks and ghetto fab outfits. Then we’re seeing more of that movie that I really don’t understand. This part is in slow-mo, giving me ample time to figure out a plot, but I really don’t make it there. Lauryn is singing again, which would irritate me if I was in the audience, but I’m not so we’ll let it go. Girl still has the munchies, cramming that popcorn in her mouth like there’s a buttery prize at the bottom of her bucket.

Now we’re out in the lobby, where people are looking swank and greeting one another. It appears that this movie is really important to these people, but we still don’t know what it’s about. Then we get a wide shot of the balcony where the Fugees and all their friends are sitting, and it’s immediately clear that none of these folks know any white people. There also appears to be a giant dildo sitting in one of the seats. Totally confused.

Cut to another part of the lobby, where Wyclef Jean is just trying to talk on a payphone while several tartlets flirt with him whilst sitting on a couch for no apparent reason. One girl in a too-tight orange blouse seems to be winning this race, licking her lips and shoving her chest forward. She suddenly gets up and strolls out of the little seating area. Wyclef can’t help but follow her to some staircase, where an intrusive camera angle makes it clear that Orange Blouse Girl isn’t wearing any panties under her slacks.

Meanwhile, back in that non-white balcony, Lauryn is still belting out the song while Wyclef insists on counting something with his fingers. I guess you had to be there. All of these people seem to be far more happy than one should be while attending a movie that no one knows anything about.

Orange Blouse leads Wycelf into the men’s bathroom, where one bystander is so excited about the fact that Orange has breasts that he nearly wets himself, while another bystander, standing at a urinal no less, doesn’t even bother to let go of his johnson during this whole scene. Orange Blouse leads Wyclef into one of the stalls and slams the door.

Really? God.

Back to that damn balcony, where Lauryn has decided to start throwing popcorn at people and Wyclef seems to have a Baby Ruth lodged in his throat. Then Lauryn plays with her hair for a little bit, and we see more scenes of that movie that doesn’t make any sense. Wyclef manages to spit out the candy bar long enough to start with that insipid counting business again. He’s really proud of himself for doing this. Lauryn laughs like he’s the most amusing thing ever, but really, I’m done with Count Chocula. We’re not in on your joke, Wyclef. Stop it.

Suddenly, the whole audience is really invested in the movie, where some guy with a hoodie over his head is about to do something. Another guy on the screen falls to the ground, and we don’t know if he’s been shot or if he’s really drunk. Then Lauryn helpfully points out that the movie just got stuck and the film melted in two. Naturally, this leads to a riot in the audience where people start banging around on one another, with more popcorn flying through the air and expensive hairstyles getting flattened.

These folks really need to chill out. Why you gotta get all gangsta? You’re just watching a movie, people. I don’t think anybody’s civil rights have been violated.

This goes on for a while, with people body-surfing and scores being settled. Lauryn is supposed to be acting all outraged by this, but she’s actually laughing her ass off and having a great time, so we’ll assume that she’s drunk. Which is fine. There’s an extended sequence where one of the gangstas proves that he’s not all that by running to hide in the women’s bathroom. He tough.

Then we have a nice artsy bit where some of the gang members run behind the movie screen, and then burst through it in some pretty black-and-white cinematography. This also doesn’t resolve anything, but it does prove that somebody went to film school. The impromptu riot finally settles down, with Lauryn once again laughing and having a good time with her popcorn. I never knew she was such a happy girl.

The video winds down with a cute little character update for the band members. Praz becomes president of Sony, Lauryn gets married and has 13 kids (I guess her uterus fell out after that point), and Wyclef becomes a minister. Uh huh. Fade to black.

I just have one lingering question. Why would you let anyone strum your face with his fingers? Seriously.


Note: This is another video where the official version is no longer available on YouTube. I don't know what happened in the 1990's, but there are some bitter people up in that grill...

Rihanna - “S & M”

Wow. I didn’t think that Rihanna could surprise me at this point, but holy cow.

Okay, we start out with Rihanna sporting a frizzy red wig and shoving her face at the camera like Tina Turner in that infamous bit as the Acid Queen in “Tommy”. Cut to Rihanna being dragged out of somewhere to a press conference where she’s speaking to “Cox News”. (Uh huh.) Interestingly enough, both her handlers and the press people at this conference are wearing… well, let’s just say a it’s a surprising accessory that one won’t see on “Good Morning, America”.

Rihanna is dolled up in an outfit (well, a partial outfit) that has words printed all over it. We can’t really read these words, because Rihanna is kicking her legs in the air like she needs to whisk some eggs. More shots of the Acid Queen, then the handlers are shoving Rihanna on a stage, where they then attach her to the wall with heavy-duty cellophane while cameras flash. I’m so thinking that Rihanna might not have the best PR people on her staff.

Back to the Acid Queen bit, where some guy in stupid pants and electrical tape is being dragged in, so that Rihanna and what looks like Pink can take torture him. Zip back to the press conference, where reporters are kissing Rihanna through the cellophane. Then Rihanna manages to sing a bit, even though I’m amazed that we can hear her through all that plastic sheeting. (Is that Candy Crowley in the press pool? Poor thing. She must have pissed somebody off at CNN.)

While Rihanna sings on the stage, the reporters are writing things like “Slut” and “Totally starving for attention” in their notebooks. (Big surprise.) Meanwhile, headlines are running across the screen about “Daddy Issues?” and “God, I hope there’s an open bar after this”. Despite being trapped in cellophane, Rihanna has plenty of room to perform all the hand choreography necessary to tell the depraved tale of how she thinks that S&M is really neato.

Now we have Rihanna wearing a questionable flat hat and waving a cigarette holder about as she prances in a beige leather outfit. This Rihanna apparently lives in an otherwise pleasant suburban house, except at this dwelling Rihanna likes to lead a man around on a leash so he can tinkle on a pink fire hydrant. Then she whips him for his naughtiness.

Did I mention “holy cow” at any point? I think so.

Brief visit with the Acid Queen again, then we’re back at the press conference where nobody has left the room like they should if they are really professionals and not just horny and bored. The press seems to be throwing things at her, but she’s got that plastic sheeting to deflect airborne objects, so it’s all good. We have another visit to the Acid Queen house, where folks are apparently fornicating with any object that they can find. Is there something in the water?

Now we have a medley of the press conference where Rihanna likes to be orally violated and the Acid Queen’s boudoir where everybody likes to be violated, especially if they are wearing leather with studs. Rihanna is still insisting on shoving her face at the camera whilst wearing a wig that has its own zip code. In the background, some folks who probably know Adam Lambert are posing in aggressive couture and trying to make even table condiments look sexy.

Well, then. Now we’ve got Rihanna wearing a pink bathing cap and matching thigh-high boots. She’s fondling a bucket of either pink popcorn or condoms, and sitting in a chair that conveniently spins around so she can do high-kicks and shove things in her mouth suggestively. This is interspersed with glimpses of that press corps tied up in some room that’s probably not approved by the International Journalist Society.

Rihanna doesn’t care. She and her pink latex pick up a whip-thing conveniently located nearby, and then she proceeds to torture her captives while posing seductively and winking at the camera. I don’t know what happened to that one guy’s shirt, but he probably should have begged harder to keep it on. Sayin.

Oh, look. Now Rihanna is in some room where she’s been forced to wear a polka-dotted leotard and a wig stolen from Fraggle Rock. Some Boy Scout must have stopped by, because she’s been tied up with some interesting knots that cause her colorful high heels to point skyward along with her booty and, somehow, her nipples, even though she’s on her stomach. Sort of. Rihanna rolls around and tries to get free, but she’s not really trying all that hard. I guess I haven’t seen enough subtitled foreign films to fully understand all of this.

Back to Pink Latex Rihanna with the press corps, where she’s apparently hungry and is chewing on her cute little pink whip. I can’t really speak for bondage aficionados, but I’m thinking she needs to take that thing out of her mouth. If the leather gets too mushy, it won’t elicit the proper response from your sexual captives. (I only know this because of an unexpected viewing of “Big Brother After Dark” on Cinemax.)

It doesn’t really matter, because Rihanna seems to be having a swell time dominating people that she normally wouldn’t even have a conversation with, but she really needed to get this video out. As if to prove her dedication to her craft despite all the hiccups in the production process, Rihanna places some tape over the lips of a female reporter and then kisses her. This reporter pretends to be appalled, but you know she’ll be making a very special entry in her diary tonight.

Next up is Rihanna wearing a Lolita wig whilst doing some kind of shimmy dance in front of giant newspaper headlines. Her lips are apparently important in this part of the video, because we keep getting shots of their dewy wetness. (Is that a bow or bunny ears on her head? Not sure.) And there’s some more of that Fraggle Rock mess, with Rihanna still not trying really hard to get loose and change into another outfit.

Now we’re at a twisted office party, where people are wearing colorful but stupid outfits and Rihanna is modeling a dress made out of a melted-down Barbie Malibu Camper. She’s sprawled across a desk, and you know nobody in this place can get anything done while she’s doing that. For some reason, Rihanna actually places her hand over her crotch when the camper dress rides a little high. Seriously? It’s a little late for her to think about being discreet.

And we wind things down by jumping around to all the soft-porn sets that we’ve visited thus far, and we learn that nothing new is really going on, mainly because Rihanna has already shown us every position in the Kama Sutra and she’s out of material. Oh wait, I spoke a little too soon. Rihanna slaps on some Carmen Miranda drag and then proceeds to seductively eat a banana with her coral pink lips instinctively caressing the fruit. Maybe she was low on potassium.

I guess Rihanna found the produce angle to be exciting, because now she’s shoving strawberries in her mouth while sporting a hat made out of mutant cherries. And then we’re on to the Dairy section of the supermarket, so she can tongue an ice cream cone with jewels as sprinkles. This is followed by more jumping around to see what her slutty friends are up to, and I can only say that I will never look at blow-up dolls in quite the same way again.

Fade to black…




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INXS - “Need You Tonight”

We start with somebody standing off camera and flicking their hand in front of the lens and making some sort of odd signal, but I’m paying more attention to the 400 bracelets this person is wearing. (Does the weight make their arms longer?) Then the name of the album rolls by, and this kicks off a long series of other things scrolling past on the screen, like band members and fruit. It becomes clear very quickly that we’re not dealing with a story here, just film editors sitting around and going “Hey, let’s have Michael Hutchence flip his hair right here!”

Speaking of Michael, he shows up to whisper the classic “come inside”, and then he starts dancing in the background while various band members appear and disappear. Oh, and there’s a white mouse crawling up the sleeve of Michael’s jacket during this bit. Maybe the image of a rodent on your bicep is more important to Australians than other people. We also get glimpses of some sad woman who keeps turning her head to one side and looking despondent. (Is she the one that lost the mouse?)

We finally get a full shot of the whole band, but almost immediately Michael starts hopping around and wiggling his hips, making it hard to see anybody else, so he was probably one of those Diva people who are high-maintenance. To get back at him, two of the band members shove their heads in from the sides of the screen. It’s a rather startling move, so prepare yourself. You don’t want to be in the midst of chugging an adult beverage when this happens or there could be issues.

Then we go back to more random images floating around. (Um, somebody might want to tell that drummer that he’s missing his drum. On second thought, he seems to be very happy playing nothing and wearing his Oompa Loompa shirt, so maybe we should just let him be.) Another band member shoots in from the side and sticks out his tongue. I’m starting to not care for these abrupt drive-bys. They’re a little unnerving. And there goes another one. Oh wait, he’s kind of cute. He can come back. Make the others do something else.

Now there’s a sequence where Michael might be behind prison bars, and the rest of the band is lined up behind him wearing what might be mime outfits. The band is trying to do some type of intricate hand movements to the song, but you can tell they didn’t practice very hard and aren’t taking it seriously. This might explain why we get another image of Michael, this one looking sad and disappointed.

The mimes slide away and we get the band playing again. (Why is that one guitar player doing that thing with his leg?) Two more of the band members do the creepy “burst in from the side” thing, and then they’re just as quickly gone. And another scene with that overly-happy drummer. I want some of whatever medication he’s taking. Please.

Now we’ve got people flashing peace signs, which is hip and cool although a bit dated, and then Michael is doing a part of the song which requires him to point at us a lot and make his hair bounce. (Okay, the happy drummer just slid into the creepy category with some weird laughing. He really needs to settle down.) And the mimes are back, still not having really learned their choreography. Focus, people.

Another shot of the sad girl, then Alicia Silverstone, I mean Michael Hutchence, is back for the final bit of the song. He flops his hair around seductively, then holds his arms out so we can see his belly button under his jacket. To make sure we see it, he closes in on the camera while doing one of those dances from the 80’s that could easily be mistaken for a medical condition. Then he leans in and whispers the infamous last line “you’re one of my kind”…

Behind him, we can see that the happy/creepy drummer has finally found his drum set. But now his sticks are missing. Guy just can’t catch a break…



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