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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