Lady Gaga - “Paparazzi”

Okay, Gaga’s put together another little mini-movie. This one starts out with pretty images of a fancy estate somewhere, complete with well-tended gardens and the absence of anyone wearing non-couture outfits. The title credits roll, and we see that Alexander Skarsgard is also in this. (Eric from “True Blood”! Yay! I hope he exposes as much of himself as Lady Gaga does, because you know she’s going to be waving her hoo-hoo around, whatever the song might be.)

We get scenes inside the house, and it’s clear that whoever lives here makes so much money that they just have to leave stacks of it lying around, they’re so bored with trying to spend it all. Cut to a bedroom, where Lady and Eric are astraddle each other in bed. Sadly, they are both wearing clothes. (Well, in Gaga’s case, she’s typically wearing whatever she could find in Liberace’s tool drawer.)

The two of them are having some insipid conversation about whether or not they love each other, but I’m distracted by Lady’s “tribute to Liza Minelli” wig. Then they smooch for a while, but no fangs appear, so I’m a little disappointed. The love-making gets a little more passionate, which naturally inspires Eric to lift Gaga off the bed and carry her out on a balcony. (Hmm. Does Gaga have something that needs to be aired out?)

He plops her down on a convenient railing that is just the right height for some vertical lovin’, and we suddenly realize that someone is taking pictures of them. Gaga surprisingly gets a little bent out of shape. (Did she hear the cameras? Surely she’s not bothered by them. Girl has cameras over her bidet.) Whatever the case, they tussle a bit and then Gaga slaps Eric. He doesn’t really care for that so he just shoves her ass off the balcony. Oh my.

As Lady Gaga falls, she does a nice tribute to the movie “Vertigo”, complete with dramatic poses and some hand choreography. Cut to Gaga splattered on the pavement below, with paparazzi rushing to take her picture. Even in death, Gaga looks artsy and chic. Newspaper headlines start flashing across the screen, announcing the end of both Lady Gaga and her career. How sad. (Well, except for Madonna.)

Hold up. Looks like Gaga survived, because we next have her being assisted out of a limo and placed in a wheelchair, while she wears a cinnamon bun on her head and happy servants do a line dance. While that mess is going on, we start seeing another Lady Gaga, this one wiggling around on a fancy couch while wearing a modified version of those plastic-ring things used to hold cans of soda together. This Gaga likes to do things with her tongue and show us her pretty leather gloves.

Back to the wheelchair business, where Gaga is being wheeled into (presumably) her house. Just before they cross the threshold, she and her servants do a rousing jazz-hands thing. I don’t know if that was for good luck or they just have the music in them. Anyway, they get her ass inside, and the dancing servants start assisting her with changing her outfit. (I guess she was too tired to go somewhere private and do this.)

Quick shot of a dead Playboy bunny in a bathtub. What in gay hell?

And don’t forget about Couch Gaga, who is still trying to prove something which pretty much requires that she ride that couch like it’s a rodeo and a bull just shot out of a chute. Of course, none of her movements mess up her hairdo, because that would just be too tragic for anyone to take.

Anyway, back at the Rehabilitation Clinic, Gaga is now wearing an outfit inspired by “Metropolis”, and is struggling to get on her feet using little walker things. To provide moral support, more dancers come in from the sides and do a routine. It’s over the top, and I think we can all agree that we will never see a line dance quite like this one again.

Shot of another pretty but dead woman, possibly in the garden. Then we have a dead female impersonator wearing Statue of Liberty headgear. What’s up with these dead people? Somebody around here does not like to be contradicted.

More fun with Couch Gaga, as she continues to get the antique furniture all sticky, and additional shots of glamorous dead people sprawled around the estate. (Oh look, even that nice maid apparently plummeted from an upper floor onto the tiled entryway. I guess she didn’t bring someone’s tea on time.) Wait, now Couch Gaga has some friends joining her on the couch, and they both look like Greg Allman. Then they’re gone. And then they’re back, so inspired by Gaga’s writhing that everyone decides to shove tongues down each others’ throats. How nice.

Oh boy, another Gaga, this one wearing a drug-inspired senorita outfit and marching into a room with a bevy of similarly-dressed attendants. Naturally, it’s time for another line dance, and away they go. If I had to give their routine a name, it would be along the lines of “Reenactment of That Time When the Flock of Psychotic Hummingbirds Attacked Picasso during the Running of the Bulls. Part Two.” Or something like that.

Well, look at that. There’s a third Greg Allman sucking face with Gaga.

Anyway, The Hummingbirds fly back to wherever, and now we have another Gaga. This one also likes doing things with her tongue, and has a fondness for feathery headdresses and tributes to Napoleon’s horse. (This is intercut with shots of more supermodels that will never hit another runway.) There’s also something about Dalmations, but this is very obscure.

And we start to wind things down with Lady Gaga and Eric back together again, no explanation given. His fashion statement in this scene is a metallic eye patch and the lack of pants. Her motif is a Minnie Mouse rip-off paired with odd black lipstick that makes her mouth look tiny. They’re in one of the sitting rooms of the estate, where they have just been brought refreshments by presumably the last surviving member of the household staff.

As newspaper headlines flash that, whoops, our bad, Gaga is really alive and still dominating the entertainment world, Gaga hops up and fixes Eric a nice cocktail. We see her slip what looks like poison into his drink, so I guess she’s not quite over his having tossed her butt over the side of the building, but then she licks the spoon after stirring the concoction. Hmm. Is this going to be a Romeo and Juliet ending? Probably not. Gaga still has a few albums left on her contract.

Gaga prances back over to the couch and hands the drink to Eric and his eye patch. He takes a swig while Gaga patiently sips her own tea, and then he dies, rudely dropping his glass onto the fancy carpet next to his purple silk socks. Gaga grins weirdly, puts her sunglasses on Eric, then slips out of the room to see if the Allman Brothers need anything.

Next we have the police and such checking out Eric’s body, then wheeling it out of the house. Cut to Lady Gaga and her traffic-cone hairdo being escorted to a waiting car while the paparazzi goes crazy with attention and devotion. More newspaper headlines inform us that she’s been found innocent and all is well. But we still end the flick with Gaga and her metal bustier in a police lineup. In typical Gaga fashion, she makes even potential incarceration sexy and fun…



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