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  • “yes, and?” Joins the Ranks of Other “Clapback at the Critics” Songs

    “yes, and?” Joins the Ranks of Other “Clapback at the Critics” Songs

    It is an increasingly “grand tradition” in the genre of songwriting. Not to mention a rite of passage for any major pop star who stirs up enough controversy. That tradition being to “clapback” at the faceless blob known as “The Critics” (though some are simply trying to treat art with the seriousness it should be imbued with—but try telling that to a stan, or a celebrity as convinced of her perfection as Lana Del Rey). With Ariana Grande’s lead single from Eternal Sunshine, “yes, and?,” she revives this grand tradition with the help of the inspiration that came from being, let’s just say it, a homewrecker (a song title that’s already been used, to memorable effect, by Marina and the Diamonds [now MARINA], and appears on the list below). Repurposing the narrative to her benefit with a song that takes ownership of loving a certain babyface ginger dick, Ethan Slater. Best known, that’s right, for his portrayal of SpongeBob SquarePants in the musical of the same name (Grande always has a fetish for the wiry, slightly gay types). 

    While “yes, and?” can’t quite surpass a track like Madonna’s “Human Nature” in terms of its stinging qualities against the critics (e.g., “I’m not your bitch/Don’t hang your shit on me”), it’s definitely become instantly “up there” among the ranks of iconic clapbacks in song form. Below are a few other noteworthy ones from the past few decades, in no particular order. 

    “shut up” by Ariana Grande: Obviously no stranger to criticism by the time 2020’s Positions rolled around, it was fitting that Grande should kick off that album with the saucy “shut up.” A clear message to critics, tabloid headlines and online trolls alike, Grande’s directive was simple: “You know you sound so dumb (so dumb, so dumb, so dumb)/So maybe you should shut up/Yeah maybe you should shut up.” Elsewhere, she points out that those who tend to criticize tend to have the most time on their hands and are also plenty criticizable themselves. Thus, she adds, “How you been spendin’ you time?/How you be usin’ your tongue?/You be so worried ‘bout mine/Can’t even get yourself none.” That line about “using one’s tongue” also foreshadowed the lyric from “yes, and?” that goes, “My tongue is sacred/I speak upon what I like.” Because, apparently, it’s only okay when Ari does that, not critics. 

    “Without Me” by Eminem: Released as the lead single from Eminem’s fourth album, The Eminem Show, “Without Me” was a sequel, of sorts, to “The Real Slim Shady” from 2000’s The Marshall Mathers LP. By 2002, when The Eminem Show came out, Eminem was, even more than Grande, extremely well-versed in being caught in the melee of critics’ and politicians’ contempt. Not to mention the fellow celebrities/public figures Eminem was wont to name-check in his songs. In “Without Me,” that includes Dick and Lynne Cheney, Elvis Presley, Chris Kirkpatrick of *NSYNC, Limp Bizkit, Moby and Obie Trice (though Obie is only mentioned in reference to “stomping” on Moby). More than anything, however, Eminem’s intent is to remind all of his detractors how “empty” it would feel without him in the music industry. Hence, the earworm of a chorus, “​​Now, this looks like a job for me/So everybody, just follow me/‘Cause we need a little controversy/‘Cause it feels so empty without me.” The accompanying video portraying Eminem as a superhero rather than a villain only added to the efficacy of his jibe at critics. 

    “The Emperor’s New Clothes” by Sinead O’Connor: Although “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” the second single from I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, is about many things, one of its most fundamental verses is peak “clapback at the critics,” of which there were already many—especially in conservative Catholic Ireland—at the time of O’Connor’s second record release. The verse in question goes: “There’s millions of people/Who offer advice and say how I should be/But they’re twisted and they will never be/Any influence on me/But you will always be/You will always be.” In this way, O’Connor insists that the public perception or criticism of her will never matter—only the opinion and viewpoint of the one she truly loves (at that time, producer John Reynolds) will. The video for the song also heightens the notion of O’Connor continuing to perform however she wants to and say whatever she wants to as its entire premise is just her dancing and singing onstage in front of an expectedly judgmental crowd.

    “Human Nature” by Madonna: The occasional Sinead adversary, Madonna, brought listeners the inarguable mack daddy of all clapback songs in 1994, with the release of Bedtime Stories (still among one of Madonna’s most underrated records). A direct reference to her treatment and the general slut-shaming that occurred during her Sex book and Erotica era, Madonna wanted to remind critics that she may have forgiven, but she didn’t forget. As the fourth and final single from the album, “Human Nature” differed from the previous singles (including “Secret,” “Take A Bow” and “Bedtime Story”) in that it deliberately sought to remind listeners and critics alike that, despite presenting a “softer side” for this record, the defiant, devil-may-care Madonna was still there. Ready to pounce—and in a black latex bodysuit, too. For just as iconic as the song itself was the Jean-Baptiste Mondino-directed video, awash in S&M aesthetics inspired by Eric Stanton. As Madonna herself said of the track, “The song is about, um, basically saying, ‘Don’t put me in a box, don’t pin me down, don’t tell me what I can and can’t say and it’s about breaking out of restraints.” The restraints that critics have, so often, foolishly tried to place on Madonna. 

    “Like It Or Not” by Madonna: By 2005, Madonna had more than just the usual critics on her back. After turning forty-seven, Madonna kept pushing the so-called limits of pop stardom by daring to keep not only releasing records and performing live, but still dressing “too scantily” “for her age.” Complete with the leotards and fishnets that characterized her Confessions on a Dance Floor period. Fittingly, “Like It Or Not” served as the finale to the record, with Madonna promising her detractors, “This is who I am/You can like it or not/You can love me or leave me/‘Cause I’m never gonna stop.” Turns out, she might have been directing those comments at Guy Ritchie as well. 

    Vulgar” by Sam Smith and Madonna: In case you couldn’t tell by now, Madonna is not just the Queen of Pop but clearly the Queen of the Clapback—as further evidenced by this modern update to the content and attitude of “Human Nature.” Sam Smith and Madonna came together for this song after the latter’s condemnation for her appearance (too obviously riddled with plastic surgery—that was the usual critique) at the 2023 Grammys and after Smith, too, was criticized for his increasingly “fat” and “effete” appearance during the Gloria album rollout and the according visuals that came with it (including the video for “Unholy”—during which Smith is dressed in some very Madonna-as-Dita attire). Teaming up to hit back at those who would try to keep them down (even though Madonna has far more experience with that than Smith), the duo triumphantly announces, “Got nothing left to prove/You know you’re beautiful when they call you/Vulgar/I do what I wanna/I go when I gotta/I’m sexy, I’m free and I feel, uh/Vulgar.”  

    “Your Early Stuff” by Pet Shop Boys: The Madonna-adjacent (in terms of gay fanbase, musical stylings and coming up in the 80s) Pet Shop Boys also know a thing or two about being critiqued. Especially when it comes to the main criticism being that they’ve been around “too long.” As though an artist should simply pack it in because some arcane alarm clock goes off in their head about being “too old” to continue when, the reality is, true artists keep creating art until the day they die. Featured on 2012’s Elysium (the duo’s eleventh album), Neil Tennant had no trouble writing the song as, per his own words, “Every single line in that song, every single thing has been said to me.” This includes such backhanded “compliments” as, “You’ve been around but you don’t look too rough/And I still quite like some of your early stuff/It’s bad in a good way, if you know what I mean/The sound of those old machines” and “Those old videos look pretty funny/What’s in it for you now, need the money?/They say that management never used to pay/Honestly, you were ripped off back in the day.” Unlike the other songs on this list, “Your Early Stuff” is perhaps most unique for stemming directly from the criticisms of the common people, as opposed to more ivory tower-y, “legitimate” critics. 

    “URL Badman” by Lily Allen: Another British addition to the list, this still too-untreasured gem from Lily Allen’s equally untreasured Sheezus record, “URL Badman” is Allen at her most delightfully snarky (which is saying something, as she she’s quite gifted with snark). Taking little boys who write for the likes of Complex and Vice (RIP, but that’s karma) to task, Allen speaks from the myopic perspective of the URL Badman in question, declaring, “It’s not for me, it must be wrong/I could ignore it and move on/But I’m a broadband champion/A URL badman,” also adding, “And if you’re tryna call it art/I’ll have to take it all apart/I got a high-brow game plan/A URL badman/I’m a U-R-L-B-A-D-M-A-N with no empathy.” This speaking to the crux of how musicians feel about critics in general. 

    Attention” by Doja Cat: Released as the lead single from Scarlet, Doja Cat’s mountains of controversy had piled up significantly by 2023, chief among them being her blithe defense of dating a white supremacist/sexual abuser and her venomous attack against her own fanbase, who she told to “get a job”—the usual dig made by people who think paid time for unsatisfying labor is supposed to make you a more worthwhile person on this planet (hence, “Billie Eilish Is A Jobist”). “Attention” paired well with this rash of events, with Doja Cat creepily talking about some invisible monster (perhaps what Lady Gaga would call “the fame monster” inside of her) that needs the attention, not her. It’s a very, “That wasn’t me, that was Patricia” defense, and maybe “Scarlet” is the easier part of herself to blame for needing her ego to be fed. Nonetheless, she still demands of the critics, “Look at me, look at me, you lookin’?” later mocking them with the verse, “I readed all the comments sayin’, ‘D, I’m really shooketh,’ ‘D, you need to see a therapist, is you lookin’?’/Yes, the one I got, they really are the best/Now I feel like I can see you bitches is depressed/I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest.” Obviously, that last line sounds familiar thanks to appearing in the chorus of Grande’s “yes, and?” when she urges, “Yes, and?/Say that shit with your chest.” In another moment of skewering the critics, Doja Cat balks, “Talk your shit about me, I can easily disprove it, it’s stupid/You follow me, but you don’t really care about the music.”

    “Taco Truck x VB” by Lana Del Rey: Lana Del Rey has often felt similarly. And, like Sinead O’Connor’s “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” it’s one verse in particular that makes Del Rey’s lengthy “Taco Truck x VB” (the “VB” being an abbreviation for a previously unreleased version of Norman Fucking Rockwell’s “Venice Bitch”) stand out as a clapback track. The one that shrugs, “Spin it till you whip it into white cream, baby/Print it into black and white pages don’t faze me/Before you talk, let me stop what you’re saying/I know, I know, I know that you hate me.” And just like that, Del Rey dismisses all responsibility for dubious behavior….like wearing a Native American headdress, posing a non sequitur “question for the culture,” posting unblurred-out videos of black and brown protesters/looters during the BLM of summer 2020 or insisting she’s not racist because she’s dated plenty of rappers (on a side note: no one knows who she might be talking about apart from white “rapper” G-Eazy).

    “Homewrecker” by Marina and the Diamonds: Even if Marina Diamandis a.k.a. Marina and the Diamonds a.k.a. MARINA is singing from the perspective of her alter ego, Electra Heart, 2012’s “Homewrecker” is still plenty viable as a clapback song. And it definitely ties into Ariana Grande’s overarching theme on “yes, and?,” which is a direct addressment of the critics who have called her, that’s right, homewrecker. Opening with the tongue-in-cheek lyrics, “Every boyfriend is the one/Until otherwise proven…/And love it never happens like you think it really should,” MARINA paints the picture of a woman who won’t be torn down by the slut-shaming insults lobbied against her. Besides, as she announces (in the spirit of Holly Golightly), “And I don’t belong to anyone/They call me homewrecker, homewrecker.” She gets even cheekier when she adds, “I broke a million hearts just for fun” and “I guess you could say that my life’s a mess/But I’m still lookin’ pretty in this dress.” This latter line reminding one of Grande’s lyric on “we can’t be friends (wait for your love),” “You got me misunderstood/But at least I look this good.”

    “Piece of Me” by Britney Spears: No stranger to being called a homewrecker herself after getting together with Kevin Federline in 2004, when Shar Jackson was pregnant with his second child, Spears was already jaded about critical lambastings by 2007. And “Piece of Me” was the only appropriate response to all the scrutiny (especially after Spears was reamed for her performance of “Gimme More” at the 2007 VMAs). Thus, she unleashed it as the second single from Blackout. Having endured the critical lashings of her every move, 2007 was also the year that Spears famously shaved her head at a Tarzana salon, providing plenty of grist for the tabloid mill. But to her endlessly stalking paparazzi and the various critics, Spears roared back, “You want a piece of me?/I’m Mrs. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous/I’m Mrs. Oh My God That Britney’s Shameless/I’m Mrs. Extra! Extra! This Just In!/You want a piece of me/I’m Mrs. She’s Too Big Now She’s Too Thin.” So apropos to her entire existence in the spotlight, Spears’ Vegas residency would end up being called that as well—a heartbreaking choice considering how many pieces her family took of her to make her endure that ceaseless run of performances. 

    “Rumors” by Lindsay Lohan: Inarguably Lindsay Lohan’s only solid contribution to the music business, “Rumors” embodies the apex of 00s tabloid culture, awash in all the language of voyeurism (“I can see that you’re watchin’ me/And you’re probably gonna write what you didn’t see”). And Lohan made the mistake of releasing it slightly before she would really be turned into a tabloid/late night talk show joke. This stemming from her overt dependency on drugs and alcohol at a time when a movie titled Herbie: Fully Loaded was going to come out. Cue all the obvious jibes. If only “Rumors” had been released just a year later to secure maximum impact as a defense for her clubbing/party girl behavior. Even so, it remains what RuPaul would call safe as part of the clapback canon. 

    “Industry Baby” by Lil Nas X featuring Jack Harlow: In 2021, Lil Nas X came under fire by Nike for selling a limited run of Satan Shoes featuring the famous swoosh logo with the help of MSCHF, an art collective based in Brooklyn. Nike sued for trademark infringement, prompting Lil Nas X to create quite the tailored concept for the premise of the “Industry Baby” video (with the title sardonically alluding to the insult “industry plant”). Incidentally, it was directed by Christian Breslauer, who would also go on to direct Grande’s “yes, and?” video. But Lil Nas X wasn’t just rebelling against the lawsuit, but all of his haters in general, rapping, “You was never really rooting for me anyway/When I’m back up at the top, I wanna hear you say/‘He don’t run from nothin’, dog’/Get your soldiers, tell ’em that the break is over.” And while co-production from Ye (a.k.a. Kanye West) has left some taint on the track, it still packs a punch when it comes to walloping the critics.

    “Mean” by Taylor Swift:  Probably the most flaccid of the clapback tracks on this list, “Mean” was a direct response to music critic Bob Lefsetz, who reviewed Taylor Swift’s 2010 performance at the Grammys less than favorably. Among some of his more scathing assessments about her off-key performance (made all the more noticeable because she had joined Stevie Nicks onstage) was that she full-stop “can’t sing” and that she had “destroyed her career overnight.” Nostradamus this man is not. But his words clearly stung enough for Swift to include an angry little girl clapback (something that “Look What You Made Me Do” would perfect) on 2010’s Speak Now, released nine months after she performed at the Grammys in January. Which means she found the time to tack “Mean” onto the record for optimal impact. Even so, Lefsetz would rightly note later of the rumors that it was about him and his review, “If this song is really about me, I wish it were better.”

    “Not My Responsibility” and “Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish: The subject of frequent scrutiny, Billie Eilish already has two clapback at the critics songs under her belt and she’s only twenty-two years old. The first “song,” “Not My Responsibility,” wouldn’t really become a song until it appeared on her sophomore album, Happier Than Ever, in 2021. Originally created as a short film interlude for her Where Do We Go? World Tour, the song came at a time when Eilish was being constantly called out for being, let’s say, the epitome of a twenty-first century sexless pop star. A direct attack on body- and slut-shaming, Eilish softly states, “I feel you watching always/And nothing I do goes unseen/So while I feel your stares/Your disapproval/Or your sigh of relief/If I lived by them/I’d never be able to move.” This more modern commentary on what criticism in the age of social media can do extends not just to critics, but the legions of online commentators as well. A legion that Eilish also acknowledges on “Therefore I Am,” which was released later in 2020 at the height of the pandemic, ergo Eilish’s ability to film freely in a vacant Glendale Galleria. A privilege the critics she derides would never have access to. Something that shines through in her laughing taunt, “Stop, what the hell are you talking about?/Ha/Get my pretty name out of your mouth/We are not the same with or without/Don’t talk ’bout me like how you might know how I feel/Top of the world, but your world isn’t real/Your world’s an ideal.” Often, an impossible one for anybody to live up to. But such is the complex and isolating nature of being a critic.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish Aesthetics Permeate the Apocalyptic L.A. of Doja Cat’s “Agora Hills”

    Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish Aesthetics Permeate the Apocalyptic L.A. of Doja Cat’s “Agora Hills”

    As Doja Cat persists in her determination to prove she is “art rap” personified, she’s enlisted the help of Hannah Lux Davis (known for creating sumptuous videos for such pop stars as Ariana Grande and Charli XCX, as well as previously working with Doja on “Say So”) for her latest visual, “Agora Hills.” A video that feels almost like a companion piece to “Demons,” which Doja Cat co-directed with Christian Breslauer. Building on the same “backrooms” aesthetic from that video, Davis opens on grainy VHS footage of an empty row of showers as the camera then drops to the floor and we see a woman (probably “Scarlet”) in red heels approach the drain. The red heels being emblematic of Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz. For, after all, even though it’s spelled wrong (one wants to believe “intentionally”), the single is named in honor of Agoura Hills, the Los Angeles suburb where Amala Dlamini grew up before she was Doja Cat. Perhaps spelling it without the “u” is some kind of high school dropout flex, who knows? Anyway, it seems apparent that she wants to get the point across that “there’s no place like home.” No matter how fucked-up and apocalyptic it looks when you go back to it. 

    The harbinger of that post-disaster state is foretold by the blood soon washing down the drain of the aforementioned shower—further proof that it’s “Scarlet,” as we’ve only ever seen her covered in blood during her various cameos throughout other Doja Cat videos (including “Attention” and “Paint the Town Red”) of this era. Lux then cuts to a suburban neighborhood gone literally topsy-turvy, with Doja suspended in mid-air in the distance before descending upon the ruined L.A. earth. All in all, it has the same feel as Billie Eilish’s “all the good girls go to hell” video. But that’s not the only Billie video it appears noticeably “inspired by,” for Doja also wields the backdrop of the “dead mall” the way Eilish does in “therefore i am,” taking advantage of the Glendale Galleria’s emptiness in late 2020, during the notorious pandemic.

    But before Doja gets to the mall (a staple of “Valley culture”), she lands on the asphalt with the toes of her ballet shoes setting off sparks against the concrete, a bevy of zombie-like women behind her who, just as Doja, also look like they’ve been styled in Dolls Kill attire. And yes, although originally started in San Francisco, Dolls Kills has become something of an honorary L.A. fixture, complete with its brick-and-mortar outpost on Fairfax. And so, with these two overt L.A. icons—Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish—already so overtly at play within the video’s visual universe, Doja isn’t being quite as original or subversive as she would like to believe she is. Though, perhaps it’s only fair to “steal” the Dolls Kill vibe considering how well-known the company is for stealing from other, lesser-known designers. 

    Sampling from Troop’s 1989 hit, “All I Do Is Think of You” (itself a cover of Jackson 5’s version), Doja then proceeds to get positively mushy on this single. And, while many want to comment about how “sweet” the song is, it seems everyone has conveniently forgotten that it’s likely about her racist, sexually predatory boo, J Cyrus. So while maybe it would be sweet, it doesn’t come off that way when the listener pictures J as she sings, “Whether they like or not/I wanna show you off/I wanna show you off/I wanna brag about it/I wanna tie the knot/I wanna show you off.” The video, still in occasional “VHS style” mode, then takes us inside a seemingly abandoned house (for this entire cul-de-sac neighborhood is an eerie wasteland) where “another” Doja, this one with black hair and disgusting/haunting long acrylic toenails, is talking on the phone in a decidedly “80s teen girl” bedroom to her boyfriend in a peak “Valley girl” accent, delivering such cliches as, “No, you hang up, you hang up.”

    The scene then morphs into a new tableau with a “new” Doja. This time, the bald-headed one we’ve grown more accustomed to seeing of late. And, what a surprise, she and some of her doppelgängers (including an alter ego who’s dressed like “Kandi,” the Dolls Kill persona for their raver lines) are in another fluorescently-lit backroom. This more basement/dungeon-like than the ones prior. An interspersed scene of Bald Doja wearing a cast boot on one foot while atop a knockoff Hollywood sign that instead reads “AGORA HILLS” adds to the overall randomness. But what “logic” can be had in the post-apocalypse? And perhaps, on some level, Doja Cat realizes that one’s personal life, as a celebrity, can only be truly accepted when nobody else (apart from her arbitrarily-materializing fellow Dolls Kill models) exists on Earth to judge and condemn it. 

    As the video draws to a close, Doja takes full advantage of the dead mall setting that was initially alluded to in the shower scene that commenced “Agora Hills” in the first place. Showing up with all her fellow “Dolls,” the Eilish homage feels complete now. And, for those convinced that Doja couldn’t possibly be influenced by Billie, let it be noted that she even name checks the “other” Angeleno in “Ouchies” by saying, “A hunnid billies, I’m the G.O.A.T, no Eilish.” While it might sound like a “dig” to those who want to constantly stir the pot by creating celebrity beef where there isn’t, Doja Cat and Eilish (as fellow L.A.-born celebrities) are friendly enough, with the former attending Eilish’s twenty-first birthday last year. And perhaps the only thing that’s missing from this grab bag of a video is a cameo by Eilish herself. But, pointedly, it’s a no white girls allowed scenario. For surely, the delicate whites (no laundry pun intended) could not survive any apocalypse (despite what The Last of Us would have people believe). Unless, they’re the rich kind who pre-bought all that bunker space in New Zealand to ride out the end times.

    But for the non-rich whites, survival seems less secure. Least of all in L.A. or its outer reaches. But anyway, after Doja and her surviving sisters scurry out of the mall, Davis caps (not to be confused with what Doja means when she says, “You just cap so hard, it’s—I don’t know what to do”) the video with a scene of Doja riding her bike on a deserted street at night with a shirt that reads: “Queen of Blow Job.” Alas, there aren’t many men around to test whether or not that’s true. Except the one Doja’s hiding somewhere in a backroom until more people miraculously reveal themselves so that she can make better use of the phrase “I wanna show you off.”

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Among the Ruins, The Mall Will Tell of What Society Used to Be (And Can’t Help But Remain)

    Among the Ruins, The Mall Will Tell of What Society Used to Be (And Can’t Help But Remain)

    In episode seven of The Last of Us, “Left Behind,” Ellie (Bella Ramsey) is taken on a late-night expedition to see a relic and wonder of the past: the mall. Even in “non-post-apocalyptic” (so we tell ourselves) America, said milieu has become something of a relic, regardless of remaining a “novelty” to those who didn’t grow up with it as the end all, be all of hangout locations (see: Billie Eilish in the video for “Therefore I Am”). To Ellie, taken there by Riley Abel (Storm Reid), her best friend and former roommate at the FEDRA military school, it is just such a novelty.

    Although Ellie is initially reluctant to accompany her bestie on this mysterious nocturnal journey, Riley soon makes good on her promise of it being “the best night” of Ellie’s life. Which, yes, is a testament to how bleak things have gotten. After the two sneak into the complex where the endless slew of shops is housed, Riley sets up the majesty for a first-time viewer of the mall by telling Ellie to go ahead of her and call out once she’s gone through the hallway and turned right. When Ellie announces, “I’m here, now what?,” Riley turns every light on in the place to reveal the beautiful embodiment of capitalism in all its decayed glory.

    Ellie, usually unimpressed by just about everything, stares out at the commercial abyss in stunned wonder. A classic case of being glamored by the bells and whistles of capitalism. Almost like an Eastern bloc defector in the Cold War creeping into America to see what all the fuss is about. To paraphrase what Ruben Östlund said during most of his interviews promoting Triangle of Sadness, “Capitalism won over communism during the Cold War because it was sexier.” In short, Reagan had the snappier quotes (e.g., “Socialism only works in two places: heaven where they don’t need it and hell where they already have it”). And, talking of quotes, one thing Östlund actually did say during an interview was, “Capitalism is so good at exploiting all our needs and all our fears, where we live, our food, and makes money out of our creativity and everything we do.” In other words, it knows how to seduce better than Peitho.

    Watching Ellie unwittingly absorb capitalism’s neon seduction without appearing to be aware of or understand its detriments makes it all the more facile for her to become enamored of “the way it used to be.” That is to say, before the overrunning of the Earth by fungally-controlled zombies. And, as Riley assures her, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” we can see that’s very true when Ellie is additionally wowed by the mere presence of a working escalator. Although Riley had only planned on billing four aspects of the mall as “wonders,” she chooses to call the escalator one as well, seeing how much it dazzles Ellie. The second is a merry-go-round, the third is a photobooth (typically overpriced at five dollars) and the fourth is the arcade—particularly meta seeing as how The Last of Us is based on a video game. But the game referenced in this episode is Mortal Kombat II, which Ellie has a poster of in her room at military school.

    When Riley confesses that she’s leaving Boston that night for good (stationed elsewhere by the Fireflies she’s joined up with), Ellie, in her state of sadness and rage, nearly opts out of the fourth-turned-fifth wonder of the mall: the Halloween costume shop. Unable to repress her lovelorn feelings, she goes back into the bowels of the mall when she hears a scream she assumes is coming from Riley, only to find it’s a sound effect of one of the props in the costume shop. The two then proceed to find love in a hopeless place, as they both give in to the romance that only capitalism can furnish, even in its “dormancy.” Kissing each other after Etta James’ “I Got You Babe” ends, one might say it was all the proverbial “wining and dining” Riley did that got Ellie to finally surrender to her true feelings. For, even in the post-apocalypse, girls just wanna be shown you care through material things (like volume two of a pun book).

    Which is perhaps why the most depressing aspect of “Left Behind” isn’t that Ellie and Riley will not have a happy ending after at last admitting their affection for one another, but that the allure of the mall (and all it represents), in spite of being theoretically defunct after an apocalypse, will not die. Its metaphor lives on (for you can’t kill an idea, etc.). This ultimate emblem of consumer culture can still manage to hypnotize and seduce people. Even if it’s a person who doesn’t know any better about the effects of capitalism—you know, the ones that ultimately lead to things like the level of global warming that can cause a fungal infection to adapt to body temperatures and become hospitable in humans, thereby creating the post-apocalyptic state in The Last of Us in the first place. That a ravenous zombie ends up attacking them in the final scenes feels only too poignant as well, considering that ravenous zombies were (and are) the primary clientele of the mall in its heyday.

    Leading one to ask, from within the context of the show: was it really “better” then, when places like the mall functioned to make us all feel as though we were “civilized” members of a “society”? Or should the one benefit of a post-apocalypse be that you don’t have to feel like you’re still constantly being brainwashed to “want” useless things (like, as Ellie and Riley point out, lingerie)? Then again, considering Ellie still has to do pre-apocalypse shit like PE, it seems unclear what, exactly, is meant to truly differentiate our current climate of societally-imposed expectations and misplaced obsessions from a post-apocalyptic one.

    Genna Rivieccio

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