Travie McCoy, Bruno Mars - “Billionaire”

  We start out with Bruno (I think) sitting by the seashore, playing his cute little guitar and wailing about wanting to have lots of money. (Um, who doesn’t?) Seagulls are wheeling about in the sky. I don’t know if this means Bruno loves nature and wildlife, or if there is a landfill nearby.

  Quick shot of Travie hangin’ at one of those skateboard parks, then a shot of some hitchhiker holding the typical cardboard sign. The street he’s on is deserted, so I’m thinking he’s not a smart hitchhiker. (Am I being stereotypical? My bad.) Then we have some guy, wearing headphones in a crowded outdoor market. This seems anti-social to me.

  As Bruno continues to emote the words of the song, we see Travie raise his hand to the sky like he just found the Lord or at least needs a hall pass from the teacher so he can go to the bathroom. More shots of the untalented hitchhiker being unsuccessful. Then we have a graffiti artist on the beach, fiddling with his cans of spray paint. He seems upset that most of his cans are empty. (Symbolism for the Bush-legacy economy?) He turns and throws one of the cans in the ocean, because THAT’S a green thing to do and all.

Then Travie and Bruno are in a very nice sports car, one that none of the real people could ever afford, driving along in the sun. Travie starts rapping about wanting to have lots of money that he can give to people, adoption agencies, and other social causes. But he’s wearing an annoying stocking cap and I really can’t take him seriously. Bruno just nods his head to the beat and waits for his turn to sing.

  More shots of the skateboard park, where some unseen person commits vandalism for no apparent reason (symbolism for the Republican party?) while people ride skateboards through the concrete jungle and our boys sit on the lip of one of the curves, rapping and high-fiving each other because they don’t have to work in an office.

  Back to the outdoor market, with the headphone guy offering his equipment to Travie. Travie seems to enjoy whatever is playing on the phones, but we can’t hear it, so the whole scene is kind of pointless. But Travie gives the guy some money, so I guess we’re supposed to learn “if strangers offer music, give them cash.” Okay, got it.

  Then the boys are suddenly riding some Vespa-like scooters, which even with my gay sensibilities I know this is something that straight guys shouldn’t ride. But they happy and all, cruising the streets, laughing, and slapping at each other’s helmets. Travie starts rapping again, and he’s all over the place. In the fancy car, on the beach, walking on a nameless sidewalk, skateboard park again, and some place where he’s inspired to shove his face in the camera repeatedly. (I’m still not a fan of those giant discs inserted into your ear lobe. Doesn’t that jack with your sense of balance?)

  Back to the feeble hitchhiker. He’s just sitting down, not even bothering to wave his sign or motion with his thumb. Travie drives up in the fancy car, and tosses the keys to the hitchhiker before wandering off on the beach. That’s nice and all. But Travie dude. The guy has no money. How’s he going to put gas in that car?

  Then we have some editing issues, with more shots of the skateboard park and our boys driving the fancy car that they no longer own. Oopsie. To distract us from this illogical mess, we cut to the beach at night, where a crowd of partiers is despondent because their keg has run dry. No worries. Travie and Bruno show up with an endless supply of bottled brewskis. The crowd instantly worships them, so our boys decide to give a concert, with drunken people waving their hands in the air and considering random sex among the dunes.

  Brief shot of Travie leaning into the camera again, screaming “What up, Oprah!” and making a barnyard noise. What is it with that subset of cocky young men who think being obnoxious is somehow appealing to anybody? (Except other cocky young men.) Do they really think that a supermodel wandering by is going to hear that mess and instantly want to bump uglies with them?

  More drunken dancing on the sand.

  Cut to Travie the next morning, walking up to the angry, spray-can-depleted graffiti person on the beach. Travie hands over a bag full of fresh cans ready to go. They do the bro hand-clench thing and the graffiti dude gets back to work. Hold up, Travie. One of your goals for social betterment is to provide endless supplies to people who deface public property? John Lennon is cursing your name as I type. (Note to Travie: John Lennon was way before your time. Look him up on Google.)

  Oh look, we’re back at the beach party that happened the night BEFORE. (Who edited this? Sarah Palin?) People are still dancing and waving their hands, and we see that the guy from the outdoor market is now playing keyboards. So THAT’S how you get in a band? Wear headphones in public places until someone offers you a J-O-B?

  We wind things down on the same beach, with people still gyrating like they just discovered the solution for Universal Health Care, but since they’re all still young and un-decayed, they don’t really care. We end with Travie laughing smugly, and then wandering off…

  And people wonder why scores on achievement tests are plummeting in this country.


Click Here to Watch the Video on YouTube...

Katrina and the Waves - “Walking on Sunshine”

  We start out with some shots of crappy abandoned housing in an unnamed, probably European, city. We zoom in on Katrina doing aerobics in some place where the window is missing. She’s very happy and energetic, doing hand motions that probably mean something to people involved with aircraft landings.

  Brief shot of the Beatles in another missing window.

  Katrina does the high splits as the lyrics start. She really loves this song.

  Close-up on Katrina (the singer, not a vindictive weather pattern) as she belts away. She can’t seem to stand still, bouncing about and exuberantly showing us her red Converse hi-tops. Brief shot of the Beatles looking sad, then a revelatory scene where we learn that everyone in the band is wearing hi-tops. Well, except for some loser with low-riders. Did he not get the memo?

  Katrina bounces some more, and then we see her marching away from a huge manor. (I guess she didn’t know the password. Brief glimpse of the Beatles being sad about her predicament while sitting on what might be a very big tombstone, but there aren’t any other graves around, so who knows.) Katrina keeps skipping along, because she’s basically happy, despite the constant rejection.

  Now Katrina is prancing alongside some industrial riverbank, where things look gloomy and sad, despite the upbeat lyrics. (Ain’t no sunshine when she’s in a fog.) Her red shoes really pop, so that’s good. Kudos to somebody in the wardrobe department.

  Then Katrina and the band are on stage, with some decidedly 80’s lighting going on. (You really expect Hall and Oates to join them at any moment.) They jiggle around for a while, with Katrina sporting a jacket so busy that small children burst into tears.

  Oh, here’s Katrina back outside, marching along with her perky determination and slightly-butch attire. Brief shot of the Beatles mysteriously adhered to some pilings on the waterfront. Then we’re back on stage, and we learn that Katrina has some stunningly large teeth. (The thick lipstick doesn’t help, honey.)

  And we’re back at the river, with Katrina trudging along with pep and vigor amidst the fog, completely oblivious to the fact that we haven’t seen any sunshine yet in this video. We see the Beatles lounging on posts along the river, appearing to be enjoying the position far more than they should. Luckily, Katrina gives them some type of signal, and they begin to follow her.

  Short interlude with the band bouncing on stage yet again, then back outside, with the quartet headed toward Notre Dame or some such. I assume it’s closed, because we see them back at the river again. One of the Beatles slips and falls in the mud, so I’m guessing this is Ringo Starr, and the plunge is symbolic of his appearance in “Caveman”.

  Shot of a duck drowning itself in the river to escape the horrid reminder.

  Shot of Katrina and the Beatles feeding bread to the surviving members of the duck family, hoping they can get past Ringo’s brief acting career and start ordering the reissues of the Beatles catalog.

  Now we have Katrina and the band arriving in the makeup room before a concert. Everybody changes outfits, puts on new tennis shoes, slathers on more makeup, and bandages their fingers. (Not sure about that last part.)

  And we’re back onstage, with Katrina proving that caffeine is intrinsic to her performance art. The rest of the band boings around in comradeship. We get tight shots of one band member who is trying to channel Loverboy, but it’s really not working for me. Lots of hair shaking.

  We wind down with Katrina showing her support for Tourette Syndrome sufferers, whipping her head around like she could mince a glove of garlic in three seconds. In fact, the whole band is flailing like somebody ordered a Cobb Salad. Music fades, and another one-hit wonder drops off the face of the earth…



Click Here to Watch the Video on YouTube.

Enrique Iglesias, Pitbull - “I Like It”

  We start out with Enrique and Pit running up some stairs, heading toward what could be a nightclub, but could also just be Enrique’s penthouse in Miami. (You know that boy’s got some piles of cash laying around.) Anyway, they’re acting like they’re best buddies even though they probably just met five minutes before somebody turned the video camera on. They open the doors, and it looks like the party’s already started, because people are pogo-ing around the room like Muppets on crack.

  And sadly, that pretty much wraps it up for the whole video.

  Oh sure, you get to see different flavors of Muppets, and somebody turns on a big fan at one point for that windblown look, but really, it’s just people jumping up and down while Enrique and Pitbull sing about how much they really, really like it. Sometimes in Spanish, to prove that they’re bilingual and making it seem like there are more lyrics to the song than there really are.

  Pitbull wears his sunglasses the whole time, even though it’s night, inside a darkened bar, so he probably listened to that Corey Hart song as a child. Enrique spends a lot of time doing the same pose over and over, where he has his head tilted down and looks seductively at the camera, leering like he just had sex with the entire Florida peninsula. And yes, it’s kinda sexy, but really, Enrique, we got it the first time.

  Speaking of supposedly sexy, why do so many of the girls think it’s alluring to raise one of their arms over their heads while dancing, and then gaze at their armpit and lick their lips. This does nothing for me. Are there really people out there going, oh my God, she loves her sweat glands, that is so HAWT.

  At 0:26 into the video, one woman just barely keeps one of her breasts from flying across the room. I hope she’s okay.

  At 0:29, another girl apparently gets pulled up to the ceiling by her ear. She’s smiling, though, so I guess she’s having fun.

  At 0:43, there’s a very brief glimpse of Madonna doing a hair flip with enough force to cut glass.

  Amidst all this, people are still dancing in the throes of ecstasy, transformed into a religious frenzy by the power of the music. Most of them have their hands over their heads, including a lot of the guys. Interesting. Is that cool for guys to do now? Back in the day, the dudes had to keep their arms rigidly at their sides, or people would instantly know that you liked show tunes.

  Oh, and Enrique is still singing, not that it matters to these people.

  At 0:50, several very excited girls launch into orbit. They are now the responsibility of NASA. Houston, we have beaver in the sky.

  The successful lift-off motivates Enrique to do the same thing, but there’s an issue with the hydraulics and he instead flies sideways, sliding across a kitchen island and then poking a woman’s breast. Interesting that his finger didn’t stay there very long. Hmmm.

  At 0:54, Kelly Clarkson has the music in her.

  Then Enrique, still trying to gain altitude, starts walking on the back of a couch, which most decent folk would consider rude, but he gets away with it because he’s cute. Then he starts doing this anti-gravity thing, proving how weightless he is. (Now THERE’s an analogy for you.) I guess that mole he had removed weighed a lot more than we thought.

  At 1:28, Enrique briefly channels the Church Lady from SNL.

  At 1:39, Joan Jett has a cameo.

  At 1:47, Robert Palmer’s backup dancers make an appearance.

  Then it’s Pitbull’s turn to sing, and he announces this by doing a Charo howl. He starts rapping away, with his attitude never letting us forget that he thinks he is the sexiest thing to be discovered since Christopher Columbus misread a star chart. He climbs on the coffee table, so I guess domination over furniture is one of the few themes for this video.

  At 2:20, we start with several brief shots where Enrique is making hand motions that a woman should lift up her tight skirt. She basically does, hunching forward across the dance floor like somebody splashed Fresca on her kettle drum. Personally, I think Enrique got a whiff of drag queen and is checking the status quo.

  At 2:30 we learn that Enrique can sing really high for no apparent reason. The sound causes several Victoria’s Secret models to start bouncing on a nearby bed. Of course, the barely-clothed harlots soon commence with a pillow fight, because THAT’S never been done before.

  At 2:49, drunk people are playing patty-cake while riding on the shoulders of other drunk people. Another one of those mystifying activities that I just don’t get. Unfortunately, that seems to be the end of any new material, because the rest of the video is déjà vu, with people dancing in a sexually ambiguous manner, pillow feathers falling through the air onto oiled-up models wearing wristbands as bathing suits, and an inexplicable need to jump in the air as high as you can with your mouth wide open.

  Then Enrique finally leaves the club without Pitbull. (The assumption being that Pit couldn’t bear to part from the many mirrors on the dance floor.) Enrique doesn’t get very far, sitting down on the steps outside. Either he’s very tired after all the dancing and singing, or he’s so ashamed of this video that he doesn’t have the strength to go on.

  I think I’ll go with Option B.



Click Here to Watch the Video on YouTube.