We start off in
some huge and creepy warehouse, where we don’t really know what’s going on
other than someone forgot to put color film in the camera. Everything is all
black and white. There’s an ominous elevator coming down from somewhere, water
dripping down the walls, and menacing machines all over the place that probably
have evil functions that we don’t want to know about. Janet and her little friends are doing that
monotone voiceover, sounding like Franciscan monks practicing for an exorcism.
Little Mary Sunshine would hate this place.
The camera zooms
in on a young man huddled in a corner. He appears to be crying, most likely due
to all the depressing crap on the set. He turns to look at that arriving
elevator, confusion and horror in his eyes, so Rush Limbaugh is probably inside
it. But before we can determine if we need to scream and run, we cut to some
folks clamoring down a ladder. The camera doesn’t show us their faces, so they
might be in the Witness Protection plan after having done something they
shouldn’t have at the top of that ladder.
Cut to a close-up
of water dripping into a puddle, which is like watching paint dry, only with
better sound effects.
Suddenly, we’re
in a part of the warehouse where it looks like someone has converted a sinister
loading dock into a dance floor, which proves to be very helpful, because Janet
and her Rhythm County dancers have just arrived. They quickly get into a
triangular formation and simultaneously do that little leg-spreading hop that
means “we are about to start performing the intense choreography that will make
you feel untalented and useless by the end of the video.”
Close-up of Janet
holding up her gloved fingers (what is it with the Jacksons and handwear?) and
doing a little countdown for us, then boom, the music kicks in and everybody is
bopping all over the stage in perfect synchronization, which means they had to
do 300 takes of this bit until everybody popped at the same time, because
nobody is that good. The
precision-dancing goes on for a while, then we cut to another area with
catwalks and lots of unexplained steam.
Some of the back-up backup dancers are over here, undulating on little
stages where strippers would normally be if this was a gentleman’s club.
Janet jumps into
view, finally kicking off the vocals. She starts explaining why we are all part
of the rhythm nation, but it’s a little hard to pay attention because she’s
sporting this ginormous, vaguely-military medal on her chest. (What the hell
did she have to do to wing that?)
Speaking of military, everybody is dressed in garb that looks like some type of
dark-ops cadet corps. We’ve got a serious uniform fetish going on here. But
their intimidating boots sound really good when they stomp them on the floor,
so it’s all good.
We get a glimpse
of that young man wandering around in the pipes and steam. You’d think he would
have high-tailed it out of here once the 4th Battalion started in with the
Electric Slide, but we haven’t lived his life so we can’t really judge his
personal decisions in a dank warehouse.
Meanwhile, Janet
and her friends are back on the loading dock, doing more gyrations. I notice
that Janet’s ponytail is really dramatic, with her copious locks flying about
prettily as she whips her head, while the other female dancers have ponytails
that have been slicked-up and tightly bound, not moving a millimeter. This
seems a little unfair to the non-Janet girls, but maybe this is just something
that’s in Janet’s contract. (“I must have the biggest hair or I’m not leaving
the dressing room.”)
I guess it
doesn’t really matter, since everyone seems to be having a swell time. We spend a while on the loading dock,
occasionally cutting over to this odd, really long room where Janet and the
Janettes march toward the camera in a dominating manner, sort of like the “uh
oh, that’s not good” scenes in Night of
the Living Dead when the zombies band together and storm the old wooden
house. (Maybe if the video producers hadn’t decided to film in black and white,
I wouldn’t have gone there, but they did, so I did.)
We eventually
find Janet and a few of her closest backup dancers in yet another part of the
warehouse, where they are doing a special routine that mostly involves them
striking various poses that require them to hold their fists up in front of
their faces. Okay, then, they are prepared to fight. But, um, what are they
fighting? The steam?
We make another
visit to the loading dock, because it’s time for another major line dance, this
one having something to do with everybody pointing their fingers and thrusting
their hips. It’s all very well done, of course, because you don’t get to be in
a Janet Jackson video unless you know what the hell you’re doing. The backup
dancers are hitting every critical plot point in the choreography as if their
lives depended on it. And really, it does. You get your ass kicked off a
Jackson shoot, you better have a Plan B for your career choice.
Another shot of
the young man wandering around Area 57 when he should be finding an exit door.
Instead of fleeing, he decides to pause and watch Janet and the drill team
continue with their exuberant rhythmic moves. I’m not sure why he’s forced to
review the dancing from the other side of a chain-link fence (what is that all about?) but it’s a good thing
that he decided to stick around, because this is the section where the
choreography goes into overdrive, with the dancing folks performing moves that
most humans couldn’t accomplish without a personal trainer and lots of free
time on their hands.
This part goes on
for a very long time. Not that this is a bad thing, it’s just that the energy
unleashed during this segment is enough to power the city of Newark for three
years. I was completely exhausted, and all I did was push play. If we could get
that kind of power unleashed during
election season, the whole country might be in a better place. Food for
thought, yes? (Quit eating nachos and watching reruns of Sex in the City, get in the car and go vote.)
Then we head to
what I’m assuming is one of the basement levels of the warehouse. (No one
handed me a map, so I’m just guessing here.) In this bit, Janet and a select
cadre of dancers are performing an interpretive piece that I believe has
something to do with… hell, I don’t know. We have cameo dancers who are very
limber and can do the splits. They are very invested in their craft, and they
perform some admirable moves, especially the one guy (girl?) with the
nunchucks. S/he’s whipping those things around with an intensity that would
certainly make me pay attention to whatever cause s/he represents. I’m writing
out a donation check right now, you can let me know what I just supported some
other time. Please don’t whap me upside the head with something on the end of a
chain.
Next up, we roll
into a montage of Janet and the High-Kicking Cadets doing their thing all over
the warehouse. Sometimes we have just a few of them doing something intricate
in a shadowy hallway, other times we have the entire population of Nevada doing
pelvic thrusts in a massive steam-drenched room full of metal walkways that
might be a gay bar in SoHo. Eventually we get to the point where Janet and
Friends are doing that extended sequence where they keep popping their heads to
one side repeatedly, in what looks like a very painful dance move. Even the Young Man who doesn’t seem to have a
purpose other than to run around and try to get out of here pauses in his
running with an expression saying “That’s gotta hurt, girl. Why you jackin’
with your neck like that?”
Janet doesn’t really have time to answer him,
because this is also the part of the video where the camera keeps zooming in
for a close-up of Janet and that big-ass key hanging from her right earlobe,
whilst she sing-pleads for us to “say it for” all of the oppressed people of
the world. This is a very admirable plea, but I’m still not getting the
military theme with the outfits. Or the shadowy darkness. Or the still
inexplicable steam that keeps billowing like something mechanical is having an
orgasm.
I guess it really
doesn’t matter, because we head into the last bit of the story, with Janet and
the Janettes doing a final line dance on the loading dock, wherein they seem to
be telling the story of what happens when you add sugar to your already-sugared
breakfast cereal. These folks are caught up in a synchronized fervor that makes
you lose weight from simply watching the video. Seriously, just keep hitting
play and you’ll drop a dress size or two. Promise.
Then the dancers
all suddenly hunch over to the right and freeze. End trans.
Meanwhile, the
Young Man who just wants to get the hell out of here and find a place where
people aren’t aggressively dancing for inexplicable reasons manages to stumble
his way toward that elusive Exit Door. He opens it, and a Jackson family member
hands him a glove…
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