After directing the aggressively white and heteronormative “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version),” Taylor Swift made it clear that she had plenty of other future directorial (and screenwriting) intentions in mind. Whether that will ultimately lead to a feature-length movie remains to be seen, but, for the time being, continuing to direct her own music videos is a good way to “flex the muscle” in the directing field. And perhaps she was watching a lot of Michel Gondry films—followed by Honey, I Blew Up the Kid and Alice in Wonderland—when she came up with the visual concepts behind her first single from Midnights, “Anti-hero.” For there is a calculatedly surreal quality to the narrative.
One that opens on Swift’s back to the camera as the caption beneath “Anti-Hero” is sure to announce, “Written & Directed by Taylor Swift.” As she sits at the kitchen table (presumably around the midnight hour—since “midnights become [her] afternoons”), she proceeds to cut open one of the sunny-side up eggs on her plate that suddenly leaks glitter. And, to be honest, such a visual is patently ripped off from the Kesha playbook. Only slightly unnerved by the vision, it is the appearance of several “ghosts” in sheets (think: A Ghost Story) that causes her to truly freak out as she tries to call for help from her landline (this just being part of the many 70s aesthetics from the Midnights era), only to find the cord is cut. Much like the thin thread of her sanity as she runs into another corner of her house to hide from the “specters” that won’t leave her alone.
Indeed, ghost imagery is mentioned a few times on Midnights, with one notable instance being on “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve” when she sings, “And now that I’m grown, I’m scared of ghosts.” Even sheet-covered ones that wouldn’t make Lydia Deetz so much as flinch. Another standout lyric that opens the track is, “I have this thing where I get older/But just never wiser.” Which could be part of the reason why she refuses to branch out from collaborating with Jack Antonoff.
When she finally goes to open the front door as a means to run out and escape, she sees the “vampier” version of herself standing before her with the greeting, “It’s me.” The Insomniac Taylor sings the “hi” part before “Devious” Taylor continues, “I’m the problem, it’s me.” Letting this version of her “worst” self in, Insomniac Taylor starts to let Devious Taylor influence all her thoughts and feelings as they do shots together and Insomniac Taylor takes down notes from the lesson plan Devious Taylor wants to impart: “Everyone Will Betray You.” This being, of course, a philosophy that feeds Insomniac Taylor’s trust issues.
The next scene is where things really meld the plot points of Honey, I Blew Up the Kid and Alice in Wonderland as a giant Swift peers in on a dinner party of “friends” looking like she just consumed one of the same “Eat Me” cakes as Alice. Despite the incongruity of her oversized appearance, she tries to “act naturally” while the lyrics, “Too big to hang out [here, one is reminded of Lorde’s own fame-lamenting lyrics on “Liability”], slowly lurching toward your favorite city/Pierced through the heart, but never killed” play in the background. She then, quelle surprise, gets shot in the chest with an arrow (for she loves that “The Archer” imagery). As is to be expected, her wound bleeds glitter (as Kesha’s would). Then, as though fully surrendering to her bad reputation, she pulls the tablecloth off in one sweep and sends everyone running in fear, left by herself to eat and imbibe tiny food and drinks.
Continuing to hang out with Devious Taylor (the “true” anti-hero within) doesn’t do much to help her self-esteem either as she’s pushed off the bed they’re jumping on together and judged harshly by Devious Tay when the scale that Insomniac Tay steps on informs her simply, “FAT.” Because, yes, even thin girls like Taylor have body image issues (but for something more authentic on that matter, one is best turning to Tove Lo’s “Grapefruit” and its accompanying video).
Wanting to convey to viewers the full weight (no body image pun intended) of her directorial cachet, Swift is then certain to include a dialogue-laden segment that ties into her Knives Out-grafting plot in the lyrics, “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money/She thinks I left them in the will/The family gathers ’round and reads it/And then someone screams out/‘She’s laughing up at us from hell.’” This, in its own way, is one of the most candid statements about fame, and the highly specific fear that many celebrities must “secretly” have when entering into the unbreakable contract of becoming a parent. For can a child of such a person ever “love” their money-bags progenitor for pure reasons? Maybe that’s part of why Taylor has yet to commit to having one.
It would certainly seem like a nightmare based on the will-reading scenario Taylor has come up with, featuring John Early as Chad, Mary Elizabeth Ellis as Kimber and Mike Birbiglia as Preston a.k.a. her money-grubbing children who get up in arms that she’s instructed her beach house should be turned into a cat sanctuary (a large portrait of “Old Taylor” with a gaggle of cats serving as the “in memoriam” photo next to the flower display). Chad refuses to believe that, in contrast, she’s bequeathed only thirteen cents each to her progeny, insisting she’s doing what she always does: leaving a secret hidden message in the will that would give them something more. But the asterisk added from Swift herself is, “P.S. There is no secret encoded message that means something else. Love, Taylor.”
Accusing Chad of being responsible for this lack of inheritance after “trading in on Mom’s name” for most of his life (e.g., a book called Growing Up Swift and a podcast called Life Comes At You Swiftly), he bites back that Preston is constantly using Mom’s name at the country club and that Kimber is wearing her clothes right now. Kimber tries to say, “No I’m not,” but Preston backs up Chad with the citation, “That’s from Fearless Tour 2009.”
As the bickering goes on, we transition back to “reality”—back to that house where Insomniac Taylor must dwell with all of her insecurities and paranoias. And with Devious Taylor… who pops up all giant to look at Insomniac Taylor from below as she’s drinking wine on the rooftop. As the two then sit side by side (now scaled to the same size), a third, even more giant Taylor than before proceeds to walk down the street toward them.
The other two appear welcoming to this ramped-up grandiose spectacle version of themselves, offering their tiny-in-ultra-giant-Taylor’s-hands bottle of wine to her. Because, if anything is taken away from this video, it’s the suggestion that there’s a reason why so many musicians end up with a drinking problem. The “too big for this world” aspect of her persona that’s being played up ultimately speaking to how Swift often grapples with not being seen as a real person, but rather, as an “entity.” And surely, “entities” are immune to such regular people things as cirrhosis.
Genna Rivieccio
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