We start with the
camera panning along outside of the infamous corner shop, with bits of advertising
posters and such whipping by, like a smiling, 1940’s urchin urging us to drink
our milk or we’ll become a Communist. The camera catches up with a little boy and
his old-school suspenders as he goes in the front door, past another poster with
another Stepford child proclaiming that milk is better than crack. What is up
with these people and dairy products?
Once inside, the
boy briefly gazes around in wonder at all the amazing things that are available
for purchase (because everything is amazing when you’re ten years old, even
air), then heads right to the little candy section, because there’s no point in
living if you can’t have candy. Conveniently, the lead singer is right there next to the jars of sugary
sensations, so he’s able to launch into the first bit of the song without being
too intrusive. (Well, as unobtrusive as one can be when one starts bellowing
lyrics in the middle of a quaint little shop for no apparent reason. Maybe this
happens all the time in Australia, not sure.)
Our Little Buddy
tries to get the attention of the young woman at the checkout counter, but she’s
much more invested in reading the personal ads in a newspaper and making sure
she holds her head just right so her hair looks pretty for the camera that she’s
not supposed to notice. Little Buddy just looks around the store and waits,
mainly because the lead singer is hollering an important part of the song, and
even little boys who want to stick something in their mouths know it’s a bit cheeky
to get all insistent when it’s time for the chorus.
This goes on for
a while, with the camera basically ignoring Little Squat and Big Hair so we can
get a nice close-up of the lead singer being devastated by the social carnage
he has just witnessed, what with candy not being immediately available for
those in need. (Big Hair does her best to remain in the shot, jostling around
and waving the pretend newspaper that she normally doesn’t read unless unwanted
customers arrive or a film company knocks on the door.)
Brief shot of the
candy jar, looking sad and unopened.
Back to the lead
singer, because he and his now-vintage V-neck shirt are not done yet. While he’s
still warbling, the camera finally pulls back (oh, so the cameraman does realize there are other people in
the store), and over his shoulder we can see that Big Hair has finally given in
to peer pressure (we all eventually do) and is assisting the youngster,
hoisting the jar and pouring out a measure of candy with the finesse of someone
who has learned a technical trade roughly 20 seconds before the director yelled
“Action!”.
Whoops, it’s time
for the chorus again, so Big Hair spends an inordinate amount of time screwing
around with the packet of candy because she can’t do anything dramatic like
fully satisfy the boy’s desires until the song is a little quieter. So she
fiddles while Little Buddy burns until the lead singer and his apparently captivating
eyes release the camera from his mental grasp.
Then we’re
suddenly outside the shop on the sidewalk, with a woman (or maybe a drag queen,
let’s be equality-friendly here) tosses some coins into the open music case of
a man playing an instrument, creating notes that sound exactly like the music
in the actual song right about this point, so some artsy person must have been
involved with the script for the video, a rarity even in those days. We spend
more time with the street-corner musician than is really necessary (he’s
blowing on something in his mouth, end of acting range) but it’s a nice break
from the claustrophobic shop where people are singing really loud and staff
people are petulant about having to work for a living.
Okay, now we’re
outside of a much larger building, with the lead singer walking alongside it
and letting the wind caress his hair just right. He starts passing a long line
of people leaning against said building, although it’s not clear why they are
doing so. (Are they really tired? Are they waiting for candy, too?) One of them
is not wearing any pants, so we’ve got a whole other video right there if the
crew can stick around after this shoot is done.
Just as the lead
singer hits another dramatic part of his story and he strolls past a couple of
women in the line who seem to be enjoying the afterglow of mutual frisky business,
the camera pulls up and back so we can realize these folks are queued at the “Employment
Centre”. Oh. Well, that changes things a bit. (I was expecting a dance club or
a methadone clinic.) It also makes me a little sad that we don’t have live
entertainment at unemployment offices here in the States. That would be so much
more relaxing than the sounds of drive-by shootings, heated discussions over proper
baby-daddy identifications, and weave-pulling.
And we’re back
outside the little shop, so the lead singer can warble about “standing on the
corner” while he’s doing just that, more pleasant artiness, and then the camera
pulls back with a flourish (the cameraman is definitely getting better as we go
along, no longer setting the lens on the lead singer and then taking a coffee
break). Now we have the whole band on that corner, with the massive drums
taking up the most real estate, which is appropriate, since this is the part of
the song where the booming percussion takes over and the lead singer does some
more powerhouse vocals while raising his fists defiantly in the air.
We get a close-up
of the drummer, letting us know that he’s actually making that rhythmic noise,
unlike most bands these days where somebody just pushes a button and a computer
program does the actual “musicianship” part. But we can only watch the drummer
for a short bit, because then we switch angles so the lead singer is in front
of the pesky drums who are threatening to steal the show. (This is probably in
the contract: “The talent must not be overshadowed by the equipment, the cute children, or the happy lesbians.”)
Lead singer
launches into the thrilling part of the vocals where his voice gets even
raspier and he makes strained faces so we can understand that this bit is some real singing, and not the spoken-word
crap spouted by the Fifty Dents, Spit Bulls, and Nicki Massages of today. As
the lead continues with the intensity of his devotion, we have a nice montage
of the other folks in the band, people who actually participate in the making
of music and don’t just wear cute outfits and pose for magazine covers.
For the final
stretch of the song, we first head back inside the corner shop, where Big Hair
is doing something with the ancient cash register. (Probably trying to figure
out how it works.) Then we cut to Little Bit still standing there without his
candy. (Wait, we saw Big Hair wrapping it up, did she not give it to him? She’s
being rude AND stealing from the company? She is so not getting the special parking place this month.) Then we wrap
it up back outside, with the lead singer finishing the story and then bowing
his head.
In the murky
background behind him, we can see the now-quiet drums waiting patiently. They
know that sooner or later the lead singer is going to call in sick, and when
that happens, they are going to storm the stage and take over the world.
Because they had the beat way before
the Go-Go’s claimed they did….
Click Here to Watch
this Video on YouTube.
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