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  • Truth Hurts: It Doesn’t Matter If Lizzo Feigns Quitting Music, The Damage to Her Brand Is Already Done

    Truth Hurts: It Doesn’t Matter If Lizzo Feigns Quitting Music, The Damage to Her Brand Is Already Done

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    As Lizzo rounds out her recent rash of bad publicity by pulling a Doja Cat and declaring she was “quitting” music only to clarify days later that, actually, what she meant was she’s only quitting “giving any negative energy attention,” it’s pretty apparent that the scandal-mired singer was merely testing the waters to see if anyone would give a fuck. And, unlike Doja Cat, who initially said, “I fuckin quit i can’t wait to fucking disappear and i don’t need you to believe in me anymore. Everything is dead to me, music is dead, and i’m a fucking fool for ever thinking i was made for this this is a fucking nightmare unfollow me,” Lizzo didn’t come across nearly as adamantly about jettisoning “the biz.”

    If her former employees’ accounts of her overinflated ego are to be believed, then it certainly tracks that her false statement was a bid for attention, designed to redirect eyes on the “terrifying” notion of what the music world would be like without her: empty. At least, from her perspective.

    After all, Lizzo has prided herself on being the lone spokeswoman for big girls in an abyss of twiggishly thin musicians. It is that brand that has been both her boon and her bane. Especially when one of the accusations lobbied against her in August of 2023 was that she fat-shamed her dancers. Despite numerous former employees of Lizzo’s coming forward to corroborate the allegations made by three dancers in particular from her The Special Tour, it hasn’t done all that much to dissuade people from supporting Lizzo and her music. For, when Beyoncé is on your side, it usually means you’ll survive. Not only that, but Lizzo just headlined a Biden fundraiser with three presidents (two former) in attendance, two of whom (Biden and Clinton) have well-known sexual misconduct claims against them. Which is precisely why it might not have been the best look for Biden to tap Lizzo for such an event (or any event). But, as it is said, desperate times call for desperate celebrity appearances.

    Lizzo’s current inability to be truly “canceled,” in many ways, mirrors the Michael Jackson effect. Not just because she’s still so beloved, but because she’s Black. And clearly, there is an inherent aversion to watching Black heroes fall because of how infrequently society “allows” for the creation of such heroes in the first place. Just look at how long it took Bill Cosby and R. Kelly (and now, Diddy) to receive their just deserts (the former of whom still ended up averting proper jail time). With Lizzo, the “truth hurts” even more because she was presented as a radiating beacon of light and hope in a world where thin white girls still reigned (and reign) supreme in terms of the pervasive messaging in social media, fashion (both high and low) and ads for just about anything. Even the “big girls” that are revered—the Kardashians—are a “carefully curated” kind of “big.” And also, lest anyone forget, white. Try as the Kardashian-Jenner clan might to make people lose literal sight of that fact. 

    And so, Lizzo, for her Bigness and her Blackness, was, to many, a welcome breath of fresh air. As embraced as she was reviled. Kardashian’s former husband, Kanye West (now Ye) was in the reviling category, telling Tucker Carlson in one of now many illustrious interviews, “The media wants to put out a perception that being overweight is the new goal when it’s actually unhealthy.” Rather than leaving it at that, he continued, “For people to promote that, um…it’s demonic.” “Why do you think they would want to promote unhealthiness among the population?” Carlson asked. Without missing a beat, Ye replied, “It’s a genocide of the Black race. They wanna kill us in any way they can.” That, it would seem, includes using Lizzo as a Trojan horse for sanctioning fatness.

    Such conspiracies recall a certain apropos 30 Rock episode from season one, “Cleveland,” during which Tracy Jordan (Tracy Morgan) informs Liz (Tina Fey) that the Black crusaders are out to get him. “Cancel” him being the better word choice, but that wasn’t a part of the cultural lexicon in 2007. Nor had the aforementioned Bill Cosby himself been canceled, still held up as an epitome of Black excellence (this also being before “Black excellence” became such a big part of the cultural lexicon). Therefore able to be taken seriously (in 30 Rock) when he says, “Tracy Jordan has made a career out of exploiting Black stereotypes. He is an embarrassment to African Americans.” That, of course, wouldn’t become drenched in irony until much later, considering the exposure of Cosby’s sordid history. As of 2007, however, he remained a gold standard in how Black people should be presented. Much the same way Lizzo is…or rather, was.

    And yes, she, too, would likely be subject to the vagaries of the Black crusaders, a cabal Tracy describes as “a secret group of powerful Black Americans. Bill Cosby and Oprah Winfrey are the chief majors. But Jesse Jackson, Colin Powell and Gordon from Sesame Street, they’re members too. And they meet four times a year in the skull of the Statue of Liberty.” Presumably to discuss who from the Black community they should oust from being famous. Or, as Tracy puts it, “They ruin anybody they think are makin’ Black people look bad.” Lizzo is presently falling under that category as she suffers from headlines like, “What Did Lizzo Do? How to Talk About Her New Lawsuit” and “Lizzo’s Dethroning Has Been Swift.” Even if these types of headlines entail a certain amount of implied empathy for the singer. That we shouldn’t all be so quick to lash out at her at once (better to stagger the venom instead). That it’s important not to make one person “the entire representation” for all of society’s ills—most of which stem directly from an abuse of power.

    But with Lizzo, the, let’s say, “temptation to be cunty” is far too great to resist because it’s rooted in the societal love of detecting hypocrisy (often setting people up to fall into that trap). Here is a woman who founded her entire career on self-love, body positivity and all-around “positive energy,” yet she’s being accused of not only creating an unbearable and toxic work environment, but also actually shaming one of her dancers for gaining weight. Yes, Lizzo, the person who once said, “…never ever let somebody stop you or shame you from being yourself” is being accused of doing exactly that to those who worked for her. 

    Worse still, permitting her dance captain, Shirlene Quigley, to take the reins and engage in her bizarre religious tirades that were often at odds with such sexually-charged acts as pantomiming oral sex via a banana and expressing that her biggest sexual fantasy is being splooged on by ten dicks. As for the former example of unprofessional behavior, Lizzo clearly has her own banana fetish if a resurfaced interview from 2019 about her desire to go to Amsterdam’s Bananenbar and “eat a banana out of a pussy” is any indication. Her dream apparently came true as this was the bar where one of her dancers, Arianna Davis, said she was pressured into touching a nude dancer’s tits after saying no multiple times until Lizzo led others in a goading chant that urged her to just do it. Or risk losing favor with Lizzo, who evidently thinks it’s her responsibility to give a more grotesque update to Mae West bawdiness. This posing as her encouragement to “be comfortable with who you are,” all while making others uncomfortable under the guise of “pushing necessary boundaries” to “achieve a healthy self-perception.” 

    And this is where Lizzo’s cult-like nature comes into sharp focus. Something about her reeking of the overly pushy and manipulative 1980s televangelist when she spouts shit like, “I want you to know that you woke up this morning, and that’s a blessing, I want you to know the sun is shining somewhere, that’s a blessing, and even if it’s raining, it’s cleansing you—it’s a blessing. I want you to know that whatever you’re going through, if it doesn’t feel good, that you will feel good again, and you have whatever it takes to feel good again.” Obviously, toxic body positivity is a stone’s throw from full-stop toxic positivity. Another case in point, Lizzo declaring, “…I’m surrounded by love and I just want to spread that love…”

    But there was no “love” spread to Arianna Davis, Crystal Williams and Noelle Rodriguez, the three dancers suing Lizzo for the following: hostile work environment, failure to prevent and/or remedy hostile work environment, religious harassment, failure to prevent and/or remedy religious harassment, sexual harassment, racial harassment, disability discrimination, intentional interference with prospective economic advantage, assault and false imprisonment. 

    Quigley was the one largely responsible for creating an environment of religious harassment (though Lizzo is the one who clearly failed to prevent and/or remedy it). Not only constantly “preaching,” but also antithetically doing and saying weird, sexually explicit things, including latching onto the intel about Davis’ virginity and consistently bringing it up. As for the racial discrimination charge (which, again, harkens back to the overall hypocrisy of Lizzo that’s being dredged up by this case), it relates to how Lizzo’s white production/management team treated her mostly Black dancers. Having switched in recent years to this team, “the lawsuit claims Black members of the team were described as ‘lazy, unprofessional and having bad attitudes’ in criticisms that were not levied against non-Black dancers.”

    Beyond garden-variety racial discrimination, Davis and Williams got their first taste of sexually-related uncomfortableness on Lizzo’s reality show, Watch Out For the Big Grrrls (a title that proved to be valid in its ominous forewarning). It was Davis in particular who suffered during an episode called “Naked.” Which features a plot summary that itself blatantly refers to her state of discomfiture: “In this emotional episode Lizzo encourages the girls to break through the negativity and past body trauma by embracing their curves fully through a nude photo shoot, but not all the dancers are comfortable with shedding their clothes and exposing the skin they’re in…” By trying to turn that blatant unease into her “pet project,” Lizzo was able to further position herself as the “patron saint of body positivity,” even if telling a different tale behind the scenes. 

    Perhaps as someone who insists, “Your criticism has no effect on me, negative criticism has no stake in my life, no control over my life, over my emotions…” she’s convinced that the same should apply to other people. That they ought to develop, um, thicker skin. But maybe, Sophia Nahli Allison, the erstwhile director of the Lizzo documentary, Love, Lizzo, might have offered some criticism that stuck when she came forward to say, “She is a narcissistic bully and has built her brand off lies. I was excited to support and protect a Black woman through the documentary process but quickly learned her image and ‘message’ was a curated facade.”

    Another former backup dancer who isn’t part of the lawsuit, Courtney Hollinquest, also came forward to say, “I’m not a part of the lawsuit—but this was very much my experience in my time there. Big shoutout to the dancers who had the courage to bring this to light.” Lizzo’s former creative director, Quinn Whitney Wilson, would repost that statement to her own social media account, adding, “I haven’t been a part of that world for around three years, for a reason. I very much applaud the dancers’ courage to bring this to light. And I grieve parts of my own experience.”

    As for the people/devoted Lizzo fans who insist that you can’t “make” someone do (or feel) anything, they’re perhaps forgetting the pressure-laden situations that arise in any workplace, regardless of industry. Especially “after hours,” when you’re expected to do many unpleasant things in the name of “team bonding.” So no, you don’t want to be the “wet blanket” who upsets the boss by not touching a stripper on a company outing. Though the dancers involved didn’t want to go, it was an unspoken rule that those who did go on these outings would get preferential treatment and a seemingly greater chance of job security (ergo, the part of the lawsuit involving “intentional interference with prospective economic advantage”). 

    In spite of the corroborated stories and sentiments about the singer, those committed to defending Lizzo have two go-to “trump cards” (a phrase that has admittedly been ruined by an orange ex-president) to make people second-guess themselves about believing victims who report abuse. 1) She’s fat (a word that will probably, at some point, become as unacceptable to use as “retard”) and 2) she’s Black. And there’s no doubt that Lizzo herself might use these qualities to denounce the “plot against her,” saying how this wouldn’t be happening if she was thin and white. 

    Nonetheless, it’s a “plot” she helped cultivate by, per her dancers’ account, “pick[ing] and choos[ing] when she wanted to be professional and when she wanted things to be personal.” While Davis in particular was singled out for gaining weight, Lizzo told the other dancers involved, “You know dancers get fired for gaining weight; you should basically be grateful to be here.” According to the legal documents, Lizzo “called attention to [Davis’] weight gain with thinly veiled concerns, though she never explicitly stated it.” Davis herself added, “It was very nuanced and very underlying underneath all the other issues that were going on. I just had this feeling that they had a problem with the way I was gaining weight.” In truth, that could have very well been because Lizzo wanted to be the “main big girl attraction,” and not have any eyes taken off of her. 

    Per the plaintiffs’ lawyer, “Lizzo used to have an all-Black management team. In the last two years, that changed. Now it’s white Europeans. The team was treating the Black dancers differently… and Lizzo was constantly talking about everyone else’s weight. The idea of weight and weight gain was brought up then explicitly.” Which ties into how Lizzo talks about weight to the point of it not being “embracing,” so much as an all-out means of “identity carving.” This making it as toxic as incessantly talking about thinness as the ideal body type. And, the thing is, someone who talks about how great they feel in their skin all the time probably doesn’t. Call it, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks…against depression.” And living in a world where being overweight is still not at all accepted. 

    So maybe that’s also part of why Lizzo redirected such fatphobic rhetoric at her own dancers. The ones she was supposedly championing for “looking like her.” To add insult to injury, rather than trying to validate their feelings in addressing the lawsuit, Lizzo could only write off her dancers’ experiences as “sensationalized stories.” Not only branding the claims as outright false, but also declaring, “I am not the villain” (spoken like someone who kind of knows they’re the villain). And yes, that word choice is also pointed in fortifying the not-so-coded language that Americans love to hear: someone is “good” and someone is “bad,” with no room for shades of gray in between. This applies especially to celebrities. And when one of them takes a fall, it’s not always assured it will “stick” depending on the height of their influence in the culture (let us again refer to Michael Jackson, who was never actually canceled, even after something as concrete as Leaving Neverland). 

    But everything you need to know about the veracity of the dancers’ “claims” (a.k.a. the truth) is manifest not only in how they used it as a last resort to resolve their ignored issues and grievances, but also in Lizzo’s choice of legal representation. One, Marty Singer. Better known as the man who has taken on cases for Bill Cosby (a recurring talisman, it seems), Chris Brown, Jonah Hill and, now, Lizzo.

    Singer is an appropriate choice for her not only because Lizzo once said of Chris Brown that he’s her “favorite person in the whole fucking world,” but also because, rather than at least acknowledging the trauma of the victims, Lizzo has opted for the old white male staple of denial, denial, denial. Hence, her statement, “Usually I cho[o]se not to respond to false allegations but these are as unbelievable as they sound and too outrageous to not be addressed.”

    Unfortunately, what’s actually “too outrageous” is the difficulty with which the “Cult of Lizzo” has taken the so-called patron saint of body positivity/love and light off her pedestal because, in this scenario, believing victims is even more to ask than usual. Likely due to the fact that, in some minds, it means “making it okay” to body shame again without the continued protection of their formerly unbesmirchable saint.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Sexy Beast: An Allegory For How No One Wants You to “Soft Live”

    Sexy Beast: An Allegory For How No One Wants You to “Soft Live”

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    From the moment viewers first encounter Gary “Gal” Dove (Ray Winstone) in Jonathan Glazer’s directorial debut, Sexy Beast, it’s clear that you can’t find a “fatter and happier” man. Lying out in the sun in a state of overly oiled, overly tanned bliss, his voiceover begins, “Oh, yeah. Bloody hell. I’m sweatin’ here. Roastin’. Boilin’. Bakin’. Swelterin’. It’s like a sauna. A furnace. You could fry an egg on my stomach. Ohh… Ooh, now that is hot. It’s ridiculous. Tremendous. Fantastic. Fan-dabby-dozy-tastic.” We soon see that he’s next to his own private pool, living in a house that appears quite remote. (Though it’s never stated, Gal is supposed to be somewhere along the Costa Del Sol of Andalusia.) Obviously, he’s on what can be called a “permanent vacation.” Granted, in his former line of work, that term doesn’t have the most positive of connotations. Indeed, it likely means you’ve been “put out to pasture” in a decidedly more murderous way. But for a rare few criminals and assassins, like Gal, there is a way through to the other side…or so one would like to believe. 

    Gal certainly did—before his retired bliss spent living with his wife/love of his life, DeeDee (Amanda Redman), was so rudely interrupted by none other than his former employer (a head hunter, if you will): Don Logan (Ben Kingsley). Well-known and feared among London’s criminal underworld, Logan’s role as a “recruiter” kicks into overdrive when crime boss Teddy Bass (Ian McShane) hatches a plan to rob an elite, supposedly “impregnable” bank after getting a tip about it from the chairman, Harry (James Fox), at an orgy. Though Gal’s never heard of the bank in question, Imperial Emblatt, Don claims it’s because “they’re one of those sniffy lot, don’t need publicity.” Gal himself wishes he didn’t have any “publicity” right now, with Don so far up his ass about partaking of this robbery (an eight-man job) that he finds it all but impossible to shit him back out. Even though he assures DeeDee before Don’s arrival that he’s going to tell him no to the job and that’ll be that. Ah, so sweet for Gal to think he ever had a choice in the matter. Alas, there’s a reason one of the taglines for the movie is: “Yes or Yes?” The word “no,” to Don, won’t be tolerated. 

    What’s more, it becomes slowly revealed to Gal that Don’s motives for turning up in the south of Spain and homing in on him as the guy for the job might not be entirely without its own ulterior motive. Specifically, wanting to see Jackie (Julianne White), the girlfriend of Gal’s best mate, Aitch (Cavan Kendall). The two apparently had a little something going on before Jackie was with Aitch, and Don never got it out of his head that he loved her (even though sociopaths can’t love). 

    As Don becomes more and more aggressive throughout his extended visit (he claims he missed his flight and needs to stay the night now), Gal is running out of ways he can say no to the stubborn fucker. At first, he tells him quite simply, “I’m…retired.” Don balks, “Are ya?” Gal assures, “‘Fraid so. I haven’t…not got lots of money. I got enough.” And it’s that statement right there that proves to be the most terrifying to someone like Don, who wields money (as much as emotional manipulation) like a weapon to get people to do what he wants. Because without that ultimate motivator—capitalism’s greatest tool—the world just doesn’t make sense to an exploiter and opportunist like Don. So it is that he “has to” start getting rougher with Gal, reminding him that “retired” or not, he can’t bite the hand that fed him enough to think he was retired in the first place. Prompting him to mock (in a manner that would also work on John Wick for thinking he could escape the High Table), “You think this is the Wheel of Fortune? You make your dough and fuck off? ‘Thanks, Don. See you, Don.’ ‘Off to Spain, Don.’ ‘Fuck off, Don.’ Lie in your pool laughing at me, d’you think I’ll have that?” What he’s really asking, though, is: do you honestly think I, the aggressor, the alpha, the person with more power than you, will allow you to enjoy yourself when I support a system that traffics only in misery?

    But Gal never appeared to be a willing participant in that system for the long haul. And his departure from the proverbial rat race (illegal or not) in England is enough to spook other people by making them question their own lives. Like, what the fuck are they doing? Does Gal know something about “better living” that they don’t? Hence, Gal’s voiceover, “People say, ‘Don’t you miss it, Gal?’ I say, ‘What? England? Nah, fuckin’ place. It’s a dump. Don’t make me laugh. Gray, grimy, sooty. What a shithole. What a toilet. Every cunt with a long face, shufflin’ about, moanin’ or worried. No thanks, not for me.’” And this was back in 2000 (though the movie’s wide release was in 2001) when Gal was saying it, so one can only imagine how vindicated he must feel about that statement now, when Britain has only sunk further into a state of misery and disrepair. But, on a larger, more metaphorical scale, what people are asking Gal when they ask him if he misses “it,” is if he misses making money, ergo being “relevant.” Being in the world and of the world. Gal, however, knew that soft living is where it’s at. 

    To be sure, long before it became both chic and nameable, Gal was living the “soft life.” A way of being that provides “more time and energy for what makes you happy and as little time as possible focusing on what doesn’t.” Unfortunately, now just as then, there are any number of Don-like forces in this world that don’t want people to live the soft life. Not just because a considerable part of them is jealous about it (/they don’t know how to switch off and achieve that life themselves), but because the more people become wise to soft living, the more the system of capitalism gets debunked/generally crumbles. And that’s the last thing that both people in positions of power and people who have invested their entire being into the system want to happen. 

    This form of jealousy and fear tends to manifest as anger and rage on the part of the anti-soft-lifer. An anger that works toward making the person living the soft life feel both guilty and worthless for the choice they’ve made to effectively “opt out” of something like “having ambition.” Which, by capitalistic standards, frankly means selling your soul to do something you hate for a living (and, these days, still barely scraping by despite this sacrifice—at least back in the day, the promise of owning a home generally came with such professional dissatisfaction). Thus, Don not only outright calls Gal “lazy” at one point after punching him in the face just as he’s waking up in his bedroom, but he also goads, “Do it.” Gal replies, “This is madness. I’ve had enough Crime and Punishment bollocks. I’m happy here.” Don snaps back, “I won’t let you be happy! Why should I?!” Because the unhappy people committed to the non-soft life simply won’t compute that there can be happiness without suffering needlessly for it. Without the forfeiture of countless hours that could have been spent actually relaxing or otherwise enjoying oneself. But no, “enjoyment” is not the name of the game in any capitalistic enterprise. 

    After a series of unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you look at it) events leads Gal to do the job he was so vehemently opposed to doing back in London, when it’s all over, he finally has to say outright to Teddy Bass, “I’m not into this anymore.” The “this” he refers to isn’t just the life of crime he was once supposedly “at home” in, but a life so entrenched in angst and anxiety due to being ruled solely by the pressures of so-called success. Albeit capitalistic success, which dictates constantly amassing more, more, more. Filling the void within via the promise of more money, but, alas, never more fulfillment. Those, like Gal, who become wise to the soft life will always be deemed a threat to the Dons and Teddys of this world, who can’t fathom an existence not rooted in torment and wasted time. Though, of course, realizing that what they’re doing is a waste of time never quite sets in either.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • As the Diddy Scandal Unfurls, Kesha’s “Tik Tok” Becomes Increasingly Sullied

    As the Diddy Scandal Unfurls, Kesha’s “Tik Tok” Becomes Increasingly Sullied

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    It’s one of the most iconic opening lines of any hit song: “Wake up in the morning feelin’ like P. Diddy.” When Kesha first came up with it back in 2009, the comparison seemed “harmless” enough. After all, women (especially white women) wanting to be as “badass” as men was a particular motif of the 2000s. That “Tik Tok” would be released just before the decade closed out was telling of how much it ultimately belonged in that time frame. Particularly after the revelations about Diddy (formerly P. Diddy, formerly Puff Daddy) and, among other things, the sex trafficking operation he’s cultivated over the years. 

    The entire dam was initially opened when Diddy’s ex-girlfriend, Cassie, sued him for sexual assault in late 2023. At that time, in fact, Kesha opted to change the lyric while performing it live during the Only Love Tour. Her quick fix?: “Wake up in the morning feelin’ just like me.” After all, how could someone like Kesha not stand in solidarity with a fellow victim of abuse? And yes, “sexual assault” seems like far too general (and gentle) a term for some of the things he did to Cassie, which included forcing her to have sex with other women (specifically, sex workers) in different cities while he filmed it and masturbated.

    Similar claims subsequently came from producer Rodney “Lil Rod” Jones, who has recently filed his own lawsuit against the disgraced rapper for coercing him into having sex with sex workers, in addition to being at risk of “constant unsolicited and unauthorized groping” by Diddy. Among other allegations laid out in the lawsuit are the mention of parties—which were, of course, attended by underage girls—where Diddy would lace alcohol with drugs for his sinister purposes and sexual power plays. So yeah, maybe waking up in the morning and feeling like P. Diddy isn’t the greatest look (or lyric) anymore. Because what kind of person wants to feel like such a piece of shit after what they did the previous night? Then again, what makes a true piece of shit is that they feel no remorse for their actions at all. 

    As the meme momentum gathers about Kesha and her now illustrious “Tik Tok” lyric (this includes the monkey meme positioned as a reaction to that particular line), one wonders if Kesha herself, as someone who suffered through her own abuser (who need not be named at this point), might soon feel inclined to make an official amendment to the song by re-recording it. But something squeaky clean that still rhymes (e.g., “Wake up in the morning feelin’ like so pretty”) inarguably alters the entire tone of the track, which is one of the peak examples of what is now more than somewhat vexingly referred to as sleazecore. Thus, on the one hand, leaving the P. Diddy mention is a careful preservation of 00s heritage. A way to maintain the reminder that there are many things about that decade that aren’t worth getting wistful over, or nostalgic about. That, while it was easy to romanticize abusive men (and abusive male behavior in general) then, it is no longer so easy to do so now. 

    For Kesha to have envisioned “being a G” after a night of partying to equate with being like P. Diddy is also a reflection of women’s attitudes and more pronounced internalized misogyny during that period. Another prime example being Marina and the Diamonds’ (before she became simply MARINA) “Girls,” first released in 2009 (just as “Tik Tok” was) and featured on her 2010 debut, The Family Jewels. It only took about a year for MARINA to look back on it and realize how misogynistic it might come across. A rallying cry against “basic” (read: hot and looks-obsessed) women that was liable to brand her as a “pick me” in future years (the same way Pink would be for 2006’s “Stupid Girls”). 

    Indeed, even after she first mentioned it being problematic in 2011, she brought it up during a 2021 interview when asked about the songs she would likely never perform again live, calling “Girls” just “very 2009” in its misogynistic sentiments, including, “Look like a girl, but I think like a guy/Not ladylike to behave like a slime/Easy to be sleazy when you’ve got a filthy mind” and “Girls, they never befriend me/‘Cause I fall asleep when they speak/Of all the calories they eat/All they say is, ‘Na-na-na-na-na.’”

    One can’t imagine that Kesha would ever do that (i.e., cease performing it) with “Tik Tok,” knowing full well that it’s one of her fans’ favorites (along with other Dr. Luke-era fare such as “Blow,” “Your Love Is My Drug,” “We R Who We R” and “Die Young”). Which again brings up the question of whether or not, as the R. Kelly-esque scandals in Diddy’s closet continue to come out, Kesha will buckle under the pressure and alter the lyrics in a more official capacity as a means to “not trigger anyone” going forward. 

    Obviously, “Tik Tok” isn’t the first song in recent years to be given a retroactive “ick factor” after a public figure was effectively canceled. And at least 1) Kesha herself isn’t the reason for its cancellation and 2) the single had more longevity before certain “unmaskings” occurred—far more years of guilt-free airplay/streaming than, say, “Pink” by Lizzo, which features prominently in the opening scene of Barbie. But it’s not like that song slapped nearly as hard as “Tik Tok,” so it didn’t feel like any big loss. With this, however, it just goes to show that referencing “lotharios” (read: predatory assholes) in music is not without its unique set of risks. 

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” Is A Direct Assault on the “Purpose” of Men

    Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” Is A Direct Assault on the “Purpose” of Men

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    As Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” continues to dominate charts and shatter records in 2024, it bears reflecting on the why of its enduring success. And the longevity it will likely have even decades from now (depending on whether or not humanity can still access streaming services at that point). Over one year on from its initial release—January 13, 2023 (a.k.a. Liam Hemsworth’s thirty-third birthday)—“Flowers” remains not only resonant, but eerily evergreen…in terms of men being, well, rather useless to women. Particularly when it comes to seeking validation and particularly when it comes to representing them as elected officials.

    If 2022 was “the year men flopped” (as if they haven’t been doing just that since time immemorial), 2023, the year that kicked off the Reign of “Flowers,” commenced as the year men were proven totally unnecessary. Granted, this might have already occurred on a more scientific level with the advent of artificial insemination. But, increasingly, the “need” for a man for “emotional support” (or much of anything else) is being called into question by women…well into 2024. Cyrus’ sologamist anthem provides no better example of that. To heighten the sentiment behind the lead single from Endless Summer Vacation, during the same week, there was also Shakira totally eviscerating her ex, Gerard Piqué, via her collaboration with DJ Bizarrap (unofficially called “Pa’ Tipos Como Tú”). It’s a track that addresses not only how he cheated on her with a much younger woman, but his many shortcomings as part of the male species.

    That both singles were released in the same week is telling of a generally “hostile” climate among the collective female psyche that keeps asking: what “purpose” does a man actually serve in my life? Or perhaps more politically correct clarification is required in the present: what “purpose” does a “straight” man serve in my life? But it’s crystal clear to anyone who observes pop culture that the hetero male has been on the shit list for quite some time—no further sexuality exegesis needed. Just say “man” to a woman and it’s enough to evoke all manner of rancor. To a degree that is rarely on par with a man’s reaction to women. Possibly because men are “allowed” to exhibit venomous attitudes in systemic and passive aggressive ways all the time thanks to patriarchy, therefore they’ve channeled their unrepressed rage and chauvinism rather regularly. Regularly enough not to shudder at the mention of the opposite sex, only quiver and cower when that sex puts them in their place. As has been happening with more celebratory frequency (see: the Greta Thunberg-Andrew Tate exchange of 2022). 

    Talking of jubilations, that’s precisely what Cyrus engages in on “Flowers,” which is an unabashed celebration of the self. And all the ways in which it can both survive and thrive without a man around to make a woman wilt rather than grow. To the point of surviving, “Flowers” also adds to the burgeoning list of post-breakup anthems, and goes one step well beyond the mainstay sonic trope for thumbing one’s nose at male callousness: Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.” Unlike this classic in the canon of songs that champions female empowerment and the resiliency to be able to move on after a man arbitrarily decides to abandon a relationship (as was the case in Shakira’s situation), “Flowers” doesn’t necessarily suggest any intention of wanting (or needing) to pursue another romance after recovering from the last. This marks it as a very singular contribution to the post-breakup song arsenal in that it defies the convention of suggesting that not only will she move on, but she’ll move on to a new and theoretically “improved” dude. In “Flowers,” Cyrus inherently suggests that she is the only person she needs to simultaneously “get by” and thrive, and that no one (read: no man) will ever be able to love her as well or as caringly and sincerely as herself. 

    While some would counter that the song is targeted primarily at her enduring muse (/ex-husband) of the past few years, Liam Hemsworth, there’s no denying her intent in rendering the lyrics as universally applicable as possible. Catering to the masses of women in this world that Cyrus knows have had or are having or will have the very same revelations after yet another botched attempt at seeking intimacy with a penis-packing human. For even Cyrus has fallen prey to the trap (more than a few times) of believing that she “needed” a man to validate her worth (whereas, at present, she merely wants one [Maxx Morando] for the presumable thrill). And she’s supposed to be pansexual, so what does that say about the “full-on” straight women who give far more credence to straight men than they deserve?

    What’s worse still is that men could easily “keep” a woman if they just made a few slight improvements to their behavior. But a general unwillingness to budge on even the most basic things accumulates into one big pile of bullshit, eventually forcing a woman to put an end to her masochism. Among such basic acts is the occasional ability to express care through a token gesture. Like, say, something as cliche as giving flowers. A trope that Cyrus wields within the chorus, “I can buy myself flowers/Write my name in the sand/Talk to myself for hours/Say things you don’t understand/I can take myself dancin’/I can hold my own hand/Yeah, I can love me better than you can.” Yet she also seeks to decimate the notion that a man is “required” at all to receive flowers. This by declaring that not only is she capable of buying her own bouquet, but that she can also do the other things a man is “supposed to do” (per the established norms of societal, literary and filmic indoctrination)—especially since there’s so few other purposes they can serve in the present apart from at least providing the every-so-often romantic display. 

    Cyrus is not the only one of late in the pop arena to use flowers as a larger metaphor for male inutility. In 2021, Billie Eilish was equally as scandalized by the fuckboy behavior implicated in not even bothering to offer up some goddamn flowers. This being evident on the Happier Than Ever single, “Lost Cause,” during which she laments, “Gave me no flowers/Wish I didn’t care/You’d be gone for hours/Could be anywhere.” This comes after Eilish highlighting the fact that she had to be the one to give him flowers, stating at the beginning of the song, “I sent you flowers/Did you even care?/You ran the shower/And left them by the stairs.” In other words, while she exhibited care for him and their relationship with this thoughtful expression, he, in turn, displayed his total lack of care by not even tending to the flowers—choosing to “water himself” instead. This being a grander allegory for the intrinsic selfishness of the male gender. With the latter lyric, Eilish also seemed to be loosely referencing the 1999 hit from Blink-182, “All The Small Things.” A track from a man that specifically calls out his own appreciation of “little gestures” (so why can’t he understand hers?). Among the few non-repetitive lines in that single being, “​​She left me roses by the stairs/Surprises let me know she cares.” And the least a man can do to return that care is put the fucking roses on display right away. 

    In a more pronounced form of repurposing a male song from the female response perspective, Miley’s “Flowers” overtly reworks the chorus from Bruno Mars’ “When I Was Your Man,” in which he sings, ​​“I should have bought you flowers/And held your hand/Should have gave you all my hours/When I had the chance/Take you to every party ‘cause all you wanted to do was dance.” Of course, these “insights” tend to come when it’s already too late, and a girl like Cyrus is explaining, “I didn’t wanna leave you/I didn’t wanna fight.” But, in the end, she had to leave for her own sense of self-worth. Which Cyrus can only truly find without the man she ephemerally thought would “complete” her. Thus, her braggadocious flex, “Yeah, I can love me better than/Yeah, I can love me better than you can.” 

    Apart from Eilish realizing this before Cyrus via a flowers analogy, so did MARINA that same summer of 2021, with a song also entitled “Flowers” from her Ancient Dreams in a  Modern Land record. Referring to her five-year long relationship with Clean Bandit member Jack Patterson, MARINA comes to the conclusion, “I would rather not/Betray myself just to keep/Your love at any cost.” The cost so frequently being ignoring the “little things” that add up to one big revelation: he ain’t the one (a similar epiphany had by Drew Barrymore as Julia Sullivan in The Wedding Singer). 

    MARINA expounds, “With every careless action, you let me slip away/If you just bought me flowers, maybe I would’ve stayed.” The flowers, as usual, are emblematic of something more telling: care. Consideration. Or rather, the absence of it. So, instead, she left Patterson and bought flowers for her damn self, posting a photo with a bouquet in April of 2020 on her Instagram account and captioning it, “I ordered flowers to: myself from: myself And let me tell you, it felt surprisingly great.” Cyrus, it appears, would tend to agree. 

    MARINA was, in fact, so determined to stay true to herself and her standards for how she should be treated that she even broke up with Patterson at arguably the most vulnerable time to do so: during the lockdown phase of the pandemic. Thus, at one point in the promotion cycle of the record, she declared, “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, but I’ve always enjoyed my own company. I’m pretty good, fortunately, on my own.” As are many women (more and more) at this juncture—for it’s just so much less disappointing than trying to make it work with a man. More often than not, a toxic presence in a woman’s potential for “blooming.” As MARINA phrased it, “The seeds we planted grew/But not like roses do/We had the thorns and leaves/But the buds, they never bloomed/And now my future gleams/With colors bold and bright/In a home that’s filled with love and hope/And a life that just feels right.” “Just right” because, as Miley has pointed out more bluntly, “I can love me better than you can.” 

    To be sure, not every woman—far from it—will be so eager to jump on the anthemic single’s message in practice as opposed to theory (part of that theory translating to dancing one’s ass off alone in their room to it). Most especially the women who are not in the same income tax bracket as the likes of Miley, Billie and MARINA. For the feeling of “radical independence,” in this society, is inextricably linked to having money, and mounds of it. This being the obvious reason for why men have been so determined for so long to keep women out of the game as “exceptional earners” (to use a Britney phrase). As that glass ceiling persists in being shattered, the question of a man’s relevance to a woman’s existence will continue to have an easy answer: he’s not. 

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Immaculate: The Perfect Easter/Pro-Abortion Movie

    Immaculate: The Perfect Easter/Pro-Abortion Movie

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    Released in mid-March, the Michael Mohan-directed horror movie (or “nunsploitation” film, if you prefer), Immaculate, was well-timed to not only coincide with having some box office clout during Easter weekend, but also to make a social commentary on the state of women’s bodily rights at this moment in history. And perhaps that was part of “God’s plan” for making Andrew Lobel’s script languish in development hell since 2014, when Sydney Sweeney first auditioned for the role (later, she would buy the rights to the script and lie in wait until she got rich enough to help produce it herself). At that particular moment, women in the U.S. apparently didn’t know how good they had it…vis-à-vis bodily autonomy, that is. 

    In 2024, women have been made well-aware that their ostensibly “inalienable rights” are not promised to them. So what better time for Catholicism to reenter the mainstream consciousness through Immaculate? After all, this is the religion that has been, apart from Islam, the most adept at treating women as second-class citizens. Mere “vessels” for carrying children. This is precisely how Sister Cecilia (Sweeney) is seen by those sinister forces who have summoned her to a remote convent in Italy (the majority of the movie was filmed in and around Rome—Catholic mecca) after her own church in Detroit, Michigan closes down. Ultimately, there isn’t much faith in the United States anymore (how can there be when capitalism has long been the new god?). Something Sister Cecilia mentions to her new roommate, Sister Gwen (Benedetta Porcaroli, of Baby fame). The latter is clearly less enchanted with the “majesty” of God than Cecilia is, even admitting to her that the main draw of joining the convent was that it meant no longer needing to rely on an abusive man for food and shelter—seeming to overlook the fact that the Catholic Church is the most abusive man of all. Regardless of the “divine feminine” energy of the nuns or not. 

    The nuns at this particular convent, however, aren’t exactly “full of life.” In fact, the convent is designed to accommodate “elder sisters” about to make their “transition” into the “next realm.” Ergo, there are only a handful of youth-oriented sisters in the mix, including Sister Isabelle (Giulia Heathfield Di Renzi), the surly mentor who tells Cecilia from the get-go that she’s too “sweet” for her own good. As Madonna once wrote in a letter to director Stephen Jon Lewicki, “I knew I wanted to be a nun or a movie star. Nine months in a convent cured me of the first disease.” Cecilia is about to be cured big time of her own sweetness/religious zealotry as the plot unfolds from the Suspiria-esque first scene, during which Sister Mary (Simona Tabasco, best known to Americans as “the prostitute from The White Lotus, Sicily edition”) steals a ring of keys from Mother Superior’s (Dora Romano) drawer while she sleeps in order to escape the convent in the dead of night. 

    Sister Mary doesn’t make it very far before a cultish-looking gang of nuns pursue her, break her leg and bury her alive (in a scene very reminiscent of Beatrix Kiddo’s buried alive moment in Kill Bill: Vol. 2). Sister Mary, in this regard, seems to be a precursor to Sister Gwen, who turns out to be much too vocal/aware of a sinister plot afoot for the convent’s “needs.” Which are to keep a newly-pregnant (“immaculate conception,” of course—hence, the movie’s title) Sister Cecilia from being spooked. Mainly by the fact that she’s being styled as the twenty-first century answer to the Virgin Mary (when she’s not also being called Santa Benedetta…no one seeming to comment on how much of a [lesbianic] heretic that particular nun was viewed as—see Paul Verhoeven’s Benedetta for further confirmation).

    At the outset of her pregnancy, Sister Cecilia is willing to go along with this notion, taking it as a sign that she was right to assume God had a higher purpose for her when He “rescued” her from death when she was just twelve years old. At that time, she had seemingly drowned in a frozen lake, only to be revived after seven minutes. That’s when she turned to religion as a form of “repayment” to God for saving her. Surely, giving birth to the new Savior must have been what he had in mind all along, right? Only there is nothing divine at all about this conception, least of all how the baby ended up “incubating” inside of her. And that is all she is—an incubator—to the men pulling the strings of this nefarious operation, Father Sal Tedeschi (Álvaro Morte) and Cardinal Franco Merola (Giorgio Colangeli). It is Tedeschi who admits to Cecilia that he used to be a “man of science” before he “God showed him a path” to faith. Naturally (or unnaturally, in this case), he didn’t entirely let go of his scientific ambitions when he “made the switch,” instead funneling his talents into replicating Jesus’ genetic code from the Christ nail they happen to have on hand at the convent. 

    Sister Mary, in her state of terror, had likely unearthed this form of “experimentation” (was perhaps even one of the nuns tapped to attempt it), with Tedeschi trying numerous times to get one of his “embryonic implants” to “take” inside of a young nun’s belly. But silence and subjugation are the Catholic (and patriarchal) go-tos for getting rid of any unwanted “element” at the convent. First, Sister Mary is literally buried, then Sister Gwen gets her tongue cut out and, during the same scene, Sister Cecilia is creepily shushed (in that shudder-inducing way that only old ladies can achieve). Throughout the narrative, this is a running theme: the silencing of women who are trying to speak out against the unfair use of their own bodies. Which they are repeatedly told, through actions more than words, that they have no control over. Their bodies belong to “God,” de facto the conservatives running the Church. What’s more, they use that petrifying justification that all zealots are so fond of: “If it is not God’s will, then why doesn’t He stop it?” But Sister Cecilia is about to take so-called destiny into her own hands to prove to her oppressors that this Rosemary’s Baby life they’ve forced on her is not God’s will at all.

    In this messaging-related regard and many others, Immaculate is a notch above the average nunsploitation movie. Plus, it’s also a win because at no point does Sydney Sweeney try to speak Italian or use an Italian accent. That alone is commendable based on what audiences have suffered through with movies like House of Gucci and Ferrari. And so, if you’re looking for a new film to your Easter-themed rotation each year, Immaculate is a solid, pro-abortion addition.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Hot Centaurs Beware: Shakira and Cardi B Take Aim in Video for “Puntería”

    Hot Centaurs Beware: Shakira and Cardi B Take Aim in Video for “Puntería”

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    As the first song on Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran to set the tone for Shakira’s twelfth album, “Puntería” is, thematically speaking, in direct contrast to most of the other tracks that appear on the record. Rather than expressing a sense of rage over being betrayed, a thirst for revenge or generally channeling “la loba” energy, this particular song is more about embracing the “ecstasy” of surrendering yourself to Cupid’s arrow. Granted, in the accompanying Dave Meyers-directed video, it’s about surrendering to Shakira’s arrow…if you happen to be a centaur. As Lucien Laviscount (best known, at this moment, for playing Alfie on the mind-numbing Emily in Paris) is in this fantastical scenario. 

    Indeed, Shakira’s arrow seems to have worked so effectively on him that rumors they’re dating have swirled since the video’s release (filled with plenty of believable PDA between the two). Such rumors being sent further into overdrive when the pair went out for dinner after her surprise performance in Times Square on March 26th. Alas, just ask Britney Spears how winding up with someone from your music video turns out.

    Whoever Shakira “really” ends up with next though, they’ll be hard-pressed to do her as wrong again as Gerard Piqué did now that she has Cardi B in her life (even if only professionally). Joining Shakira “on high” as her right-hand woman in this mythical land that matriarchy seems to rule over. Something that Meyers in his Cukor-esque, “woman’s director” role (further cemented by recently directing Jennifer Lopez’s This Is Me…Now: A Love Story) is able to convey quite well, particularly through the Easter-inspired pastels of the color palette that shine through in every frame. Including not just Shakira and Cardi’s hair tones, but also the moment when Laviscount’s body is dragged back into Shakira’s “love lair,” whereupon she proceeds to sensually wipe away the blood on his chest in full-on “pietà pose” in between sitting on a petal-y flower like a grown-up Anne Geddes baby.

    Such whimsical imagery was already established when Shakira descended from the clouds in a bubble (Gilda-style) at the beginning of the video. And it only continues when Laviscount is thrown into what one can presume is some “healing water” (sort of like what happens to Dakota Johnson in Madame Web). In fact, it’s so healing that it gives Laviscount legs (even though he already miraculously has them upon being dragged into the lair), stripping him of his “down below” horse body in favor of something much more…humanly masculine. Cue a riff on the Red Bull ad that goes, “Red Bull gives wiiiiiiings!” in favor of: “Shakira gives you leeeeeeeggggggggs!” Looking rather aroused by the prospect of what having a human lower half can mean for his relationship with Shakira, he approaches her on her flower to, let’s say, worship her like the love goddess she is. 

    Cardi B, instead, seems to have her own kink going on, preferring to keep her centaur as he is while brushing his body with a horsebrush and titillating him as she does so. All the while singing, “Tú tienes buena puntería/Sabes por dónde darme, pa que quede rendida/Me ataca onde más duele, tu a mí no me/Pero en tu cama o la mía, todo a mí se me olvida.” Which means, “You have good aim/You know where to hit me, so that I am exhausted/He attacks me where it hurts the most, you don’t hurt me/But in your bed or mine, I forget everything.” 

    And maybe Shakira has even forgotten about how much pleasure her latest former centaur was giving her, being that, by the end of the video, she seems to be on the hunt (literally) yet again, wielding her arrow at some other unsuspecting centaur soul (maybe even Camila Cabello, based on her “I LUV IT” video). The others, meanwhile, are huddled in a cluster in one of her little bubbles. Which goes to show, perhaps, that for as “lovey-dovey” as the song might be, it’s actually secretly in keeping with the “big pussy energy” of the rest of the album. 

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Just Another Day in Florida: Camila Cabello’s “I LUV IT” Video

    Just Another Day in Florida: Camila Cabello’s “I LUV IT” Video

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    After the Cubano-infused stylings of Camila Cabello’s third album, Familia, it seems the singer has decided to pivot to what is now being branded by Rolling Stone as “hyperpop,” complemented by a look that’s awash in what Paper magazine (whose current cover she appears on) calls “edgier, blonder, more lo-fi, yet hyper-femme.” The word of the moment to describe her look and sound, clearly, is hyper (though another phrase that could characterize it is simply: “Tumblr circa 2012” or even “Spring Breakers chic” [in truth, “I LUV IT” could have fit in easily on that soundtrack]). 

    Considering Cabello’s well-known propensity for anxiety and OCD, it’s fair to say that being, well, fraught isn’t exactly a “persona.” Nor is being a “Miami mami.” After all, Cabello moved to Miami with her mother when she was six years old. Having strayed away from it for a while in favor of L.A., Cabello’s return to the city to record the album undoubtedly had an influence on it (in addition to working with one of Rosalía’s go-to producers, El Guincho). 

    So, apparently, did the music itself have an influence on how she would evolve her look. Per Cabello, “Six months [into recording], we had a couple songs and [I realized], ‘Oh, this is a character.’ It became a persona that I was tapping into, which was me, but definitely a hyper-femme version of me.” There’s that word, hyper, again. And it would seem, in contrast to Lana Del Rey (among the musical inspirations for the album—case in point, lyrics like, “Kiss me hard” and “Seein’ stars, oh my god”), that Cabello doesn’t think “persona” is a dirty word, especially in the current pop culture landscape of everyone striving for “authenticity.”  So it was that Cabello asked herself the questions of this “character,” “What are the color palettes of the world this character inhabits? What’s her hair? What’s photography like there?” 

    If the video for her Charli XCX-esque first single “I LUV IT” featuring Playboi Carti is any indication, the “photography” is straight out of any ordinary, batshit day in Florida. As for the Charli XCX similarities, complete with XCX’s big break arising out of a feature on Icona Pop’s 2012 hit, “I Love It,” Paper was also sure to point out that initial reactions to “I LUV IT” “drew immediate comparisons to Charli XCX… The lo-fi iPhone aesthetic, the cyborgian sonics and then a video by Charli mimicking Cabello’s while singing her similar-sounding song, ‘I Got It,’ fueled this dialogue. But Cabello reposted Charli’s video, showing it’s all love between them. ‘I love Charli and I love Charli’s music, so I think [comparing us is] a huge compliment. Charli loves me, so everybody can fuck off.’” (And besides, Cabello is sampling Gucci Mane’s 2009 single, “Lemonade,” with a dash of Rihanna’s “Cockiness [Love It]” here, not Charli XCX.)

    In fact, the entire attitude of the song and video is “fuck off,” with equal parts “fuck it.” To help convey that is director Nicolás Méndez (also known as CANADA, the name under which he directed Rosalía and Travis Scott’s “TKN”), who opens on the image of a man holding a bow in his hand. Indeed, bow and arrow imagery has been trending for a while now, starting with FKA Twigs’ “meta angel” video from early 2022 and continuing into 2024 with Shakira and Cardi B’s “Puntería” video, during which the former is an archer taking aim at her centaur mark—even though the song itself is from Shakira’s perspective of being shot at. That’s the role Cabello is about to embody after Méndez cuts to an exterior shot of a cop car outside the house as the ultra Miami-fonted title card for “I LUV IT” appears onscreen. We then see a police officer hacking away at a tree with an ax before a quick cut to Cabello shoving a piece of cake in her mouth at her kitchen table (unless she’s broken into the place) and then spitting a mouth guard out in the next quickly-cut-to scene. 

    We’re soon rejoined with the man who had the bow, now in a hospital walking away from a vending machine and toward Cabello, seated in the waiting area with an arrow through her chest. To quote the Shakira lyrics (translated to English) of “Puntería,” “You have good aim/You know where to give me, so that I am surrendered, surrendered…/You throw darts at me, they go straight to the heart.” Cabello seems pretty blasé about that shot to the heart though, as she is in most of the other scenarios that befall her during what appears to be just another day in Florida. Whether this is wrestling with another woman, sitting calmly in her house while some dude in a motorcycle barrels through it, lying on top of a crashed car while someone takes a picture of the horror (presumably for their social media), running from a trio of drug-sniffing type dogs or turning out to be the reason why a cop is chopping down a tree (spoiler: she’s “caught” in it like a cat), all of these scenarios are “peak Florida,” in addition to matching the chaotic energy of the song. 

    And, of course, what would an ode to Florida be without a requisite convenience store sequence? This being where Playboi Carti makes his entrée to sing his verse on the track as Cabello delights in a Push-Pop in between bopping around blindfolded with some backup dancers (the choreo is decidedly tribal—we’re talking “invoke the spirits” shit). Perhaps a metaphor for how we’re all flying blind, particularly in matters of love. Or maybe it’s just another more literal inspiration from the type of “average” goings-on in the Sunshine State. 

    So is chillin’ in the hospital waiting room with an arrow in your chest, which is how Méndez chooses to conclude the video: with a “well, whatever” Cabello still vaguely hoping for some medical attention for her strange (in any other state) injury. And yes, perhaps being struck hard enough by love to feel anything anymore is very strange indeed in the present era. So no wonder Cabello sounds like she’s been injected with a jolt of adrenaline, Mia Wallace-style, when she chants frenetically, “I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it/I love it, I love it, I love it.” Though not many people can say that about Florida anymore.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Girls5eva Season 3 Explores the Struggle Between the Group’s Bid For Worldwide Fame and Simply Settling for the “Medium Time” Instead of the Big Time

    Girls5eva Season 3 Explores the Struggle Between the Group’s Bid For Worldwide Fame and Simply Settling for the “Medium Time” Instead of the Big Time

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    If Girls5eva is seeking to achieve anything (apart from de-glamorizing late 90s/early 00s pop) in season three, it’s that, sometimes, “settling” is for the best. But this is a revelation that does not arrive until the sixth and final episode, titled “New York” (indeed, all the episodes are named after the cities the band is touring in). In the wake of the series’ transition to Netflix, the third season has only six episodes where the previous two consisted of eight. Whether that bodes well or not remains to be seen, but, either way, Girls5eva has been set up with a cliffhanger that leads one to believe season four is secured. Even though Netflix is known to pull the plug arbitrarily (*cough cough* GLOW). 

    One can only hope that isn’t the case here, with much more material to be mined as Dawn Solano (Sara Bareilles), Wickie Roy (Renée Elise Goldsberry), Summer Dutkowsky (Busy Philipps) and Gloria McManus (Paula Pell) finally become comfortable with the idea of the “medium time.” That “sweet spot” between being total nobodies and being too famous to engage in everyday activities. 

    It’s only after a combination of getting that advice from medium-time “star” Richard Kind and seeing how imprisoned the Taylor Swift-level famous Gray Holland (Thomas Doherty, perhaps best known for playing sexually fluid Max Wolfe on the Gossip Girl reboot) is that the group can come to terms with their so-called mediocrity. In fact, the majority of the season explores a certain grappling with this reality. One that reaches a crescendo when Wickie a.k.a. Lesley Wiggens returns to her hometown of Clarksville, Maryland with the rest of the group in tow (plus their assistant/driver, Percy [John Lutz, of 30 Rock notoriety], the victim of a Punk’d-style prank reality show that Girls5eva was on in the 2000s, and who they feel guilty enough about humiliating to want to give him a “fresh start” in life). For, as far as any of the other band members knew, Wickie lived a “hardscrabble” life before becoming famous. 

    Turns out, what she meant by that is that she would play really hard games of Scrabble with her upper middle class parents. To be sure, the entire “Clarksville” episode is all about the curse of being born into an upper middle class family in terms of how it ruins one’s chances of becoming a famous icon. After all, it’s not enough of a sob story to make for a compelling biopic later on, nor is it in the nepo baby category of privilege that somehow makes a person more “interesting.” 

    Gloria definitely agrees with that sentiment upon realizing that Wickie grew up in a privileged, loving environment as she snaps, “You’re no Shania Twain. Look it up, she’s a hero.” Wickie shrugs, “All I did was create a more intriguing narrative…without technically lying.” And it’s true, Wickie has an answer for every lie her bandmates try to throw back in her face. Later, at the dinner table, Dawn asks Mr. and Mrs. Wiggens (played by Ron Canada and Adriane Lenox, respectively) if they always bail Wickie out when she gets herself in a financial bind. They confirm that, yes, they do—because she’s their daughter. Mr. Wiggens then tells Wickie, “You know we always support you.” She balks, “Maybe that’s the problem.” Confused, he asks, “What is?” Wickie replies, “All of this…wonderful support.” She continues, “You coddled me! Why couldn’t you be one of those sick pageant parents that live your shattered dreams through me?” She then brings up how they even let her quit tap dancing lessons so that now she’s just “pretty good.” Another mark of averageness under her belt. She concludes her speech by screaming, “I wish I’d never been born upper middle class!”

    The reconciliation with being average/par/middle-of-the-road is a running motif throughout the season. And it’s only when the group is allowed to “revert to the past,” so to speak, that they can fully understand why they’re still so hellbent on pursuing global superstardom in the present. This moment for “time travel” to the height of their heyday comes in episode four, “Orlando.” Enlisted by a millennial with money to burn (such a rare breed) named Taffy England (Catherine Cohen) for a private performance at her birthday party, the quartet is flown out on a private jet to attend the event. One in which they quickly find they aren’t the only performers. Turns out, Taffy’s birthday theme is bringing all the posters from her teen girl bedroom to life. Thus, cameos by Rebecca Lobo, a real Monet painting, “Zeke from California High,” “Pixie Jones” (a Jewel-like folk singer played by Ingrid Michaelson) and “Torque” (Loic Mabanza), a Tyrese-like model/actor who used to “date” Wickie as a PR maneuver. 

    As Dawn starts to realize how much Girls5eva had an impact on Taffy’s “teen girl mind,” she starts to feel even less enthusiastic about this performance, even bringing up one of her more toxic 00s memories when Taffy mentions first seeing them live at the Disney Summer Spectacular “hosted by Jar Jar Binks and Bill Cosby.” Dawn cringes at the thought, then tells Taffy, “Fun memory. ‘Cause backstage Fred Durst and Kid Rock realized you could fill Super Soakers with liquid shit.” Taffy is appropriately appalled before Gloria leads her away to tell her that her “vibe sucks” and that she has to keep her mouth shut in order to do this. 

    Dawn grudgingly agrees, but when Taffy then requests that they play “Sweet’n Low Daddy” from the Heartbreakers Soundtrack (a very specific film reference), it’s more than Dawn can bear. Especially in her fragile pregnant state—the one that asks her if she would want her own daughter growing up listening to the music that she used to churn out. 

    “Our old music was pretty toxic,” Dawn says from the outset of their private plane ride. And yet, she tells herself she’s willing to do it for the sake of their “real art.” And that, if Bob Dylan can sell out for Victoria’s Secret, she can do it for this private, one-off thirty-thousand-dollar gig. Because, unlike most people (millennials and Gen Z alike), Dawn declares, “I’m sorry I’m not nostalgic for the 2000s… I’m just not interested in looking back.” Yet, though she claims the reason she doesn’t want to look back is because of how toxic and (even more) misogynistic the culture was at that time, part of the truth is that it’s also painful to remember how famous and “in their prime” they once were. Two qualities that helped to make the Dawn of that era what she calls “fearless.” 

    Indeed, there was certainly no fear about offending anyone with the majority of the rhetoric. Case in point, a flashback to another song of Girls5eva’s from the period, “Your Wife Sux.” A single that Dawn also believes infected Taffy’s mind when she describes how she secured her sugar daddy. At one point, Dawn laments to Gloria, “Our old shitty songs wormed their way into her squishy teen brain and made her want this.” Gloria scoffs, “We didn’t invent the idea of a sugar daddy. Women have always traded puss for boots.” And it’s true, Taffy made her romantic decision all on her own, finally schooling Dawn on why she wanted Girls5eva to perform after asking her why she’s “happy to sit this one out” and let Taffy go onstage in her place. 

    Dawn explains, “I’m not really a big fan of our early stuff. I don’t love the messages. And I’d feel bad if they became like a life road map for some impressionable young girls.” Taffy demands, “Are you talking about me?” Dawn breaks down, “Taffy, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible that I made you.” Looking at Dawn like she’s off her meds, Taffy responds, “You think you made me? You wanna know why Girls5eva is here?” Feebly, Dawn suggests, “Because we’re your heroes?” “No. Because you made me feel like I felt back when I had your poster on my wall. Back before I found out my dad had a second family and I lit all those fires and my mom got blamed and we lost the apartment and I had to drop out of school and dig graves behind the vet’s office.” Feeling humbled, Dawn just awkwardly replies, “Okay.” But Taffy isn’t done yet. “That’s what people love about nostalgia, dumb-dumb. Makes them feel like they did when life was easy, you know?… So get over yourself, and let me enjoy my party.” Dawn concedes, wishing her a happy birthday. Except Taffy has just one more point to make: “You’re doing the same thing, by the way.” “Excuse me?” Dawn inquires with offense in her tone. “Come on. Back with your girl group from twenty years ago. You think you’re too good for ‘Sweet’n Low Daddy’ or ‘I’m A Guy’s Girl (Girls Are Crazy)’? But, there’s something you miss about it too.” 

    With this assessment slapped down, Dawn can’t deny that there’s truth in what Taffy says. That she misses the glory of such a brightly-burning spotlight, even if the material that secured it was dubious then and certainly doesn’t stand the test of time now. Musing about that period to Rebecca Lobo, she bemoans, “I didn’t know it’d all be gone in a matter of months. But life happens. You know, you grow up, nobody thinks you’re special anymore.” Then, looking at the image of herself from the 00s (that’s actually her current image with a different hairstyle) on Taffy’s poster, Dawn admits, “I miss her. And when I’m onstage, I feel like her again.” So it is that she joins Taffy and the others for an enthusiastic rendition of “Sweet’n Low Daddy.” Principles be damned!

    Those principles are no longer put into question, though, when Girls5eva settles for the medium time because they truly love what they do. And yes, settling for the medium time is playing to an empty Radio City Music Hall on Thanksgiving, but not needing to worry about the fact that no one real bought tickets thanks to Summer gaming the system with a bot army that prevents them from being sued by the venue for failure to draw in enough ticket buyers. As Dawn looks out to pretty much no one, she sings a new song inspired by her recent revelation, featuring the lyrics, “The middle is the riddle of it all” and “The middle time is just fine.” The caveat being, “…for now.”

    Those two words are what come into play when one of Wickie’s old songs from Yesternights gets played on The Crown (or rather, the version of The Crown that exists in the Girls5eva universe). Assuring her that coveted Kate Bush-being-played-on-Stranger Things resuscitation. And when Nance Trace (Vanessa Williams) actually calls Wickie to offer her a deal to do a song for a “female Garfield movie,” Wickie insists she’s still a package deal. When Dawn urgently reminds her that they were supposed to be happy with the medium time, the episode ends just as Wickie is about to give her answer. 

    Obviously, this cliffhanger reiterates the central dilemma of the season: does one settle for what they can get and cease risking constant humiliation or does one keep chasing the dream? Knowing Girls5eva, it will continue to be the latter in season four.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Millennial Mindfuck, Or: Quiet on Set: The Dark Side of Kids TV

    Millennial Mindfuck, Or: Quiet on Set: The Dark Side of Kids TV

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    For many millennials living in the U.S., Nickelodeon wasn’t just a staple of growing up…it quite literally raised a generation. With the curtain presently being pulled back on what went into making the shows (or “creating the content,” as it would now be said) that formed the millennial mind, it seems just another “house of horrors” (as one child actor’s mom put it) to reckon with (along with Britney Spears’ conservatorship being a needless sham). Another unmasking that proves everything that was once presented to the public on the surface is a lie. But it’s an unmasking that has been slowly peeled back over the years, whether via speculation about the inappropriate relationship between Amanda Bynes and Dan Schneider or the slew of viral compilation videos from Schneider-produced shows that feature overtly sexual innuendos (among the most blatant being Jamie Lynn Spears getting squirted in the face in a manner that mimics a cum shot and Ariana Grande stroking a potato like a penis and demanding, “Give up the juice”). 

    In Mary Robertson and Emma Schwartz’s four-part docuseries, Quiet on Set: The Dark Side of Kids TV, these are among the topics explored, along with the urgent need to overhaul the entertainment industry and its handling of child actors. For, despite certain “rules” being in place, like the requirement of a parent or appointed guardian to be on set at all times when their child is working, there remain far too many ways for a child to be abused or taken advantage of. As was the case for many child actors working on Schneider’s sets. Among the most shocking revelations is Drake Bell of Drake & Josh (a series that ran from 2004 to 2007) revealing that he was the one who was sexually assaulted by Nickelodeon-employed dialogue coach Brian Peck during the period between The Amanda Show and the filming of Drake & Josh. Bell was fifteen and sixteen during the time when it happened. 

    Although the court sealed the documents with the name of the child star in question, certain key people (particularly the higher-ups at Nickelodeon and Schneider himself) were aware of the “incident” (a word that puts things mildly). Which was hardly limited to one occasion, but rather, ongoing and relentless. With little opportunity to escape from Brian’s clutches as he had maneuvered his way into every aspect of Bell’s existence, even managing to oust his father, Joe Bell—the only person who could see Peck for what he was (i.e., a creep and a pedo)—from his life by convincing him that Joe would ruin Bell’s career. Naive and inexperienced enough to believe Peck had more knowledge about succeeding in Hollywood, the management of Bell’s career was then deferred to his mother, who let Brian handle most of it, including driving Bell to auditions and then suggesting he simply spend the night instead of being driven all the way back to Orange County and then have to wake up extra early to get to another audition in L.A. 

    As Bell begins to slowly unravel his horror story, he reaches the moment of truth in describing his inevitable abuse. Unable to put into words what happened, Bell told Schwartz, who interviewed him for this portion, “Why don’t you do this? Why don’t you think of the worst stuff that someone can do to somebody as a sexual assault, and that’ll answer your question.” Schwartz was, indeed, instrumental to getting Bell to finally share his story, with Bell remarking, “She was very sensitive, and we kind of became buddies before [the docuseries], and I could tell that she was coming from a genuine place. When we started our back and forth and it wasn’t [from] an angle of, ‘Okay, what do I have to say to get him involved’ and ‘I’ll just say what I need to say to convince him.’ I really felt a comfort with her.” 

    The type of comfort that was obviously lacking from Schneider’s sets. Not only because no one felt safe telling him “no,” but because overtime was frequently an expectation. Especially on the “all-new” All That, with former cast member Kyle Sullivan stating, “The set on All That was dysfunctional. You could just kind of get away with more. Like going overtime in ways that were sort of pushing the envelope.” Former cast member Bryan Hearne adds to that, “They’d be like ‘Hey, can you stay an extra however-long?’ ‘I guess, sure.’ You kind of look at your mom like, ‘We’re ignoring child labor laws again, do you know that?’ All right, let’s shoot.” Indeed, Hearne’s mother, Tracey Browne, is the one who brands the network a house of horrors in Quiet on Set, both upset that Hearne was ousted from the series after just one season, but relieved to see him released from the toxic environment that would turn out to be more toxic than she ever could have fathomed. In fact, it was parents like Brown who often “ruined” their kids’ careers for being “too involved” or “too concerned.” That isn’t something Schneider could abide on his dictatorial sets. And since many parents wanted their children to succeed, they went along with it. Much as the parents who let their children sleep over at Michael Jackson’s house. 

    Amanda Bynes’ parents, Lynn and Rick, ostensibly had a go-with-the-flow attitude as well. What with Bynes instantly becoming Schneider’s “new favorite” and often spending plenty of time alone with him in his office while others remained on set. According to former All That cast member Leon Frierson, “There would be times where Amanda would just be missing, and a lot of times we would just hear that she would be with Dan pitching ideas and writing.” Regardless of whether or not Schneider managed to do something sexually inappropriate during those countless hours spent alone with her, there’s no arguing that someone of his age and power position should not have ever been totally alone with Bynes. As for the potentially sexual nature of their dynamic, resurfaced 2010 tweets from Bynes’ account when she was going by Ashley Banks state the disturbing information, “Can you imagine having an abortion at 13 because your boss impregnated you.” While not everyone is convinced that the account was Bynes’, something about that declaration rings eerily true based on everything viewers are shown on Quiet on Set—especially the clearly rampant pedophilia at Nickelodeon (side note: another documentary [released in 2020] called Happy Happy Joy Joy dissects Ren and Stimpy’s creator John Kricfalusi, and the eventual sexual allegations against him). 

    Schneider’s perverse sense of humor (if that’s what one wants to call it) was also deeply rooted in the “thrill” of getting overtly sexual innuendos past the censors. For example, one idea that Dan came up with and certainly not Amanda was to create a character named Penelope Taynt. The word “taint” being a reference to the area between the penis and the anus. Per Jenny Kilgen, one of two female writers on The Amanda Show who were illegally asked to share one salary for what would have been given readily to a male writer, Schneider told the writers of that word, “Don’t tell what this word really means. He wanted us to keep that a secret.” Which is one of many reasons why the final statement he gives to Quiet on Set for inclusion as a title card at the end of the show is total bullshit. In it, he assures, “Everything that happened on the shows I ran was carefully scrutinized by dozens of involved adults. All stories, dialogue, costumes and makeup were fully approved by network executives on two coasts. A standards and practices group read and ultimately approved every script, and programming executives reviewed and approved all episodes. In addition, every day on every set, there were always parents and caregivers and their friends watching us rehearse and film.” 

    Obviously, the approval of all his work stemmed not only from his ability to “sneak in the sex elements,” but his immense power at the network. Which was at a level that would never allow him to be questioned. After all, this was their “brilliant” hitmaker, why “intervene” with his “process” when the money kept rolling in?

    Kate Taylor, a journalist for Business Insider, paints the picture of Schneider’s increasing power at Nickelodeon in the final episode, “Too Close to the Sun.” A depiction that knocks Schneider’s response about the whole thing out of the water: “By the late 2000s, Dan had more control than pretty much any showrunner at Nickelodeon. He had created his own little fiefdom.”

    Culture writer Scaachi Koul added, “[His style] really pushed the boundaries of sexualizing young girls.” Cue the cut to a scene of Ariana Grande on Sam & Cat being surrounded by a circle of boys spraying her with their water guns while she laughs and laps it up in a bikini top and shorts, or Tori (Victoria Justice) asking Jade (Elizabeth Gillies), “Wanna get slapped with a sausage?” while holding up an actual sausage on a skewer. Jade leans her cheek toward it and says, “Sure.” Then cue another scene with a joke about being “on the wood” (“I want to be on the wood! What’s the wood? I want to be on it”).

    As the episode then pushes into the Zoey 101 era, a costumer for the show who chooses to keep her face off-camera notes, “I always thought Dan had a little bit of an arrested development and he was like that boy that wanted the cute girl to like him.” Based on this endless barrage of examples from his shows that parade these “jokes” that usually degrade the girl at the center of them, that theory holds plenty of weight. 

    In another segment, Mike Denton, a cameraman for iCarly, Sam & Cat and Victorious, commented, “In my mind, a kids’ show should be exactly what it is: a kids’ show. And sometimes there were scenes where there was a prop that was like, ‘Hmm, that could be a sexual innuendo.’” Complete with melons being held up to one’s chest, sucking on pickles, a latex glove blown up to look like a nipple-laden udder—we’re talking the gamut. And then there is Schneider’s well-known fetish for close-ups on feet and tongues licking various objects. “Was anyone able to say anything—?” “Oh no, no. This is, it’s Dan’s baby.” Again, this speaks to the immense power Schneider had over the network. Whatever he said went, and he made them too much money for them to pull at any very glaring threads. 

    “Dan was Nickelodeon’s golden boy,” Koul confirms. “And even if he and the network were at odds, he had the power to push back. It was very hard to say anything to him.” Even and especially when it came to the “online extras” that were released during the Victorious era. Namely, videos of Ariana Grande licking/biting her own foot, putting tomatoes into a bra and pouring a bottle of water all over her face (because, needless to say, Schneider likes cum shots). In effect, these videos come across more like OnlyFans content than kid-friendly fare. 

    In terms of Schneider’s conceptualization for Victorious, his ominous take was: “If there is anything I’ve learned about kids today—and I’m not saying this is good or bad—it’s that they all want to be stars.” So “desperately,” in fact, that they would endure the abuse of working for Schneider. As though to drive home the point that Nickelodeon in general and Schneider’s series in particular were a breeding ground for abusers (and, oh yeah, pedophiles), Łukasz Gottwald a.k.a. Dr. Luke provided the theme song for the show, and undoubtedly greased the wheels to get Kesha to appear on it (when she was still Ke$ha) in 2011. Just three years later, at the beginning of 2014, Kesha would blaze a trail for blowing the whistle on abusive men by checking into rehab for her eating disorder, which she mentioned was mostly due to the verbal lashings she suffered from Dr. Luke telling her things like how was the size of “a fucking refrigerator.” 

    By the end of the year, the extent of Dr. Luke’s abuse was further revealed when Kesha filed a civil suit against her longtime producer for “infliction of emotional distress, sex-based hate crimes and employment discrimination.” If only some of the Nickelodeon stars and staff had been able to do the same. But in 2014, it can’t be overstated how groundbreaking Kesha’s announcement actually was. After all, this was the same year that Schneider was honored at the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards with a Lifetime Achievement Award. This in spite of all the open secrets and whisperings about his behavior that had gone on for decades at this point. In this regard, there’s certainly no denying the Harvey Weinstein parallels to Schneider—complete with asking women for massages. While Schneider “at least” didn’t do so after cornering them in a hotel room, it was a different kind of degradation to be asked to do such a thing in front of so many people. Not to mention the implication that Schneider didn’t value the actual work these women were employed to do on the set (i.e., wardrobe and costuming). 

    Schneider’s repeated ability to bake sexual and debasing content into his shows not only went unchecked, but undoubtedly influenced an entire generation of unsuspecting child viewers who were, at the time, too innocent to read into what they were seeing. Of course, a spokesperson for Schneider claims that it’s only perverted “adult minds” that would think such a thing, insisting, “Unfortunately, some adults project their adult minds onto kids’ shows, drawing false conclusions about them.” Um no, the conclusions are pretty clear. And there’s no doubt that this content was able to slip through the cracks precisely because, for many kids watching, these shows were their “caretaker,” their “babysitter” when there weren’t any adults around. Just as there seemed to be no adults around on the set of Schneider’s various series. 

    “Who is sexual innuendo for on a kids show?” Koul ominously asks at what point. The only answer can be, well, pervs and pedophiles. Like the very people who worked on and created these shows. Because it wasn’t just Schneider and Peck who turned out to be of dubious intent in their dealings with children, but also Jason Handy (of all the last names), a production assistant/self-described “full-blown” pedophile, and Ezel Channel, a man who was already registered as a sex offender when he was hired to work at Nickelodeon’s Burbank lot. Subsequently, he brought an underage boy to that lot and abused him there.

    As for Schneider’s attempt to “make good” with what amounts to a twenty-minute deflection posing as a mea culpa, Alexa Nikolas of Zoey 101 said it best when she responded, “Where’s a phone call of an apology? How come you can do all of this, how can everyone do all of this but not reach out to the person that they hurt?” Drake Bell made a similar assessment about Nickelodeon’s public apology, deeming it “pretty empty.” 

    As for millennials who ever dare to rewatch any of these series in the present, they might as well have the same disclaimer as Quiet on Set does before each episode: “This series investigates the abuses experienced by children from the adults they were expected to trust.” In a way, the same statement can be applied to millennials who were expected to trust the generation of adults that created the current climate (literally and figuratively).

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Less Sophomoric Efforts Appear on Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts (Spilled)

    Less Sophomoric Efforts Appear on Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts (Spilled)

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    After releasing four of the five songs that now appear on the Guts (Spilled) edition of Guts by way of hidden tracks on different versions of the album, Olivia Rodrigo has at last made those songs easily available to all—and she’s even thrown in an extra one for good measure (“so american”). Of course, it probably makes the people who bothered to collect all four editions of Guts in order to hear each hidden track feel a little bit used, but such is the nature of capitalism (just ask Taylor Swift, whose many versions of albums featuring different cover art or songs would be enough to drive any fan mad). 

    While Guts, overall, sounds like what can best be described as Sour: Part Deux, the additions of these particular tracks lend a less sophomoric feel to the record, even if many of them are still rooted in the same old “Olivia problems”—which is to say, she’s been deeply affected and/or hurt by a boy (or “man-child,” as Lana Del Rey would say). Except that, in the case of the first song that kicks off the round of bonus tracks, she’s been deeply affected/hurt by a boy’s ex. Obsessing over her endlessly and all the ways in which she’s probably superior. Hence, the song title: “obsessed” (which, it bears repeating, Mariah Carey has a monopoly on as much as she does Christmas). 

    The shorter (two minutes and one second) “girl i’ve always been” seems a continuation, in its way, of “obsessed” in that it finds Rodrigo insisting that she’s always been this way: obsessive, maniacal, “too much,” etc. And yet, the boy in question would dare to tell her, “Baby doll, you have changed.” To which Rodrigo replies, “I’m nothin’ if I’m not consistent/You knew everything you were gettin’.” The folksy meets alt-rock musical tone channels, in certain respects, a tincture of Kesha on Rainbow (e.g., “Hunt You Down,” “Godzilla” and Spaceship”) and Lana Del Rey in her post-Honeymoon era. Indeed, Del Rey is often channeled lyrically by Rodrigo within these bonus tracks. For example, the way she says, “I get down with crooked men” recalls the manner in which Del Rey declares, “I get down to beat poetry” on “Brooklyn Baby.” And then, as though to prove the adage that everything is a copy of a copy, Rodrigo wields the phrase, “I am a candle in the wind.” Although originally a phrase immortalized by Elton John, Del Rey recently took to adopting it on “Mariners Apartment Complex” (“I ain’t no candle in the wind”) and “Yosemite” (“No more candle in the wind/Not like before when I was burning at both ends”). Elsewhere, Rodrigo shrugs, “I can say I’m a perfect ten/But I am the girl I’ve always been,” which seems like a loose riff on the “She a ten, but…” meme. 

    A more “esoteric” (to those too daft to know) reference that Rodrigo is channeling on this song (unwittingly or not) is Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians’ “What I Am.” Her higher-pitched tone and sarcastic snarkiness easily harken back to this classic “alternative” hit from 1988. But, ultimately, Rodrigo must return to her go-to for emulations, Taylor Swift. At least with a song title such as “scared of my guitar,” which sounds a lot like the Swift title, “Teardrops on My Guitar.” And yes, there are certain thematic similarities in that Rodrigo discusses how the only “person” she can be completely honest with about her feelings is her guitar. And the reason she’s scared of it is because she doesn’t want to talk herself out of the idea that she’s “really happy” with the dude who treats her like shit (thus, “Perfect, easy, so good to me/So why’s there a pit in my gut in the shape of you?”). The slow, stripped down track is in keeping with other “whiny bitch” anthems Rodrigo has become known for (e.g., “traitor” and, more recently, “logical”) and perhaps one-ups Swift’s “Teardrops on My Guitar” on that front (and on the front where it’s not a country song). 

    Explaining why she’s so scared of her guitar, Rodrigo sings, “‘Cause it cuts right through to the heart/Yeah, it knows me too well so I got no excuse/I can’t lie to it the same way that I lie to you.” And to herself, for that matter. As for Swift, she pronounces,“‘Cause he’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar/The only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart.” Each singer-songwriter turning to her only true confidant—the guitar—when things get messy in matters of romance. What’s more, both tracks build on a rare genre in music: women talking about their guitars. The only other singer to do that with notable panache was Amy Winehouse on “Cherry.” 

    The following song, “stranger,” also has some Swiftian parallels, lyrically speaking (though certainly not with its “ramblin’ man” musical sound). Namely, a parallel to “I Forgot That You Existed.” Granted, Rodrigo isn’t quite as cold in this song (not the way Swift is with her chirpy announcement, “I forgot that you existed/And it isn’t hate, it isn’t love/It’s just indifference”). For instance, she admits, “God knows that I am the girl I am because of you,” which feels like a biting homage to “girl i’ve always been.” Rodrigo even goes full-tilt Del Rey yet again with the lyric, “I’ll love you till the end of time” (someone’s been listening to “Blue Jeans”). And then, for the coup de grâce, “You’re just a stranger I know everything about” channels Gotye’s lyrics, “Now you’re just somebody that I used to know.” But sometimes, that can be for the best. For, like Billie Eilish on “Happier Than Ever” or Angela Chase (Claire Danes) saying she woke up one morning feeling like Jordan Catalano (Jared Leto) had been surgically removed from her heart, Rodrigo describes, “I woke up this morning and I sat up straight in bed/I had the strangest feeling of this weight off of my chest/I hadn’t felt that hopeful since the day that you left.”

    Rodrigo also seems hopeful on the final addition to Guts (making it Guts [Spilled]), “so american.” Not only continuing the motif of “all-american bitch” (both songs now functioning as “american”-related bookends to the record), Rodrigo opts for Springsteen’s sonic vibe again (the same way she does on “love is embarrassing”). And why shouldn’t she when she wants to give off the aura of being “so american”?

    Here, too, though, she’s serving up major Swift comparisons in that she’s also fallen for a British “man” (Louis Partridge, who’s about to come up in the world by appearing in the Alfonso Cuarón series, Disclaimer). One who Rodrigo makes mention of marrying when she sings, “Oh God, it’s just not fair of him/To make me feel this much/I’d go anywhere he goes/And he says I’m so American/Oh God, I’m gonna marry him.” That mention of “I’d go anywhere he goes” also coming across like Ariana Grande on Eternal Sunshine’s “imperfect for you” when she says, “Now I just can’t go where you don’t go.”

    It’s all a lot of pressure to put on a bloke, British or otherwise (“otherwise,” in this case, being a Munchkin). Something Swift herself must know about after writing “Paper Rings” and “London Boy.” Having clearly had her own fill (sexual innuendo intended) of Brits, Swift’s fine with being “so american” if one of her upcoming songs, “So Long, London,” is an indication. All the more reason for Rodrigo to say hello to it then.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Olivia Rodrigo’s “Obsessed” Is Essentially the Plot of Sex and the City’s “Three’s A Crowd”

    Olivia Rodrigo’s “Obsessed” Is Essentially the Plot of Sex and the City’s “Three’s A Crowd”

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    Taking a gamble on assuming that anyone could ever forget Mariah Carey has a signature song called “Obsessed,” Olivia Rodrigo has opted to release a single of the same name from the Guts (Spilled) edition of her sophomore album. Although she’s already been performing it on her Guts World Tour, the official release of the track has also been heralded by an accompanying music video directed by Mitch Ryan (known mainly for his Rosalía videos). Though, clearly, Rodrigo is still stuck in her Petra Collins phase here, complete with the prom queen aesthetic that Courtney Love already ripped Rodrigo a new asshole for when she used it during her Sour Prom era. Indeed, “Obsessed” feels like Rodrigo can’t quite leave her high school days behind, swapping out a prom for an “exes ball” (or “gala”) instead so as to be able to still wield her prom queen look. 

    While that might not include any tiaras this time, it does involve gowns and sashes—and trophies…oh my! Thus, the event is seemingly equal parts beauty pageant and cotillion. A parade of all his exes branded with different labels on their sashes, including Miss Focus on My Career, Miss Put Him in Therapy, Miss Summer Camp 8 Years Ago, Miss Thought She Was the One, Miss Long Distance, Miss Freshman Year and Miss 2 Summers Ago, among others. (Olivia herself is, naturally, Miss Right Now.) Obviously, the guy Olivia is with is both much older (a seemingly new fetish of Rodrigo’s after her Joshua Bassett debacle) and a total himbo. However, despite the video’s plot in terms of featuring many, many exes for Rodrigo to obsess over, it still channels the season one episode of Sex and the City called “Three’s A Crowd.”

    As the title suggests, it’s all about when one, as the current girlfriend, feels like the odd person out in her relationship thanks to the looming, spectral presence of the ex. In Carrie Bradshaw’s (Sarah Jessica Parker) case, that looming presence is Barbara (Noelle Beck), Mr. Big’s (Chris Noth) ex-wife. As episode eight (featured, funnily enough, right after the episode titled “The Monogamists”), it was to serve as a turning point for whether or not the Carrie and Big relationship would endure or crumble under the pressure of Carrie’s expectations for such an emotionally unavailable man (to be sure, that does sound a lot like Rodrigo). So emotionally unavailable, in fact, that he only thought to tell her he was previously married when she happens to ask if he’s ever done a threesome. To which he replies, 1) “Sure, who hasn’t?” and 2) that the person he did it with was his wife.

    Needless to say, this sends Carrie into a tailspin as she assumes that they were probably always having “wild sex” together while, now, he and Carrie are only having “sweet sex” ever since settling into comfortableness with each other. This presumption about Barbara being more adventurous in the boudoir plays right into the bridge of “Obsessed” that goes, “Is she friends with your friends?/Is she good in bed?/Do you think about her?/No, I’m fine, it doesn’t matter, tell me/Is she easy-going?/Never controlling?/Well-traveled? Well-read?/Oh God, she makes me so upset.” 

    As Barbara does Carrie. Even more so after the latter actually meets her, arranging a sitdown with “Barb” after finding out that she works in publishing. This kind of obsessing, indeed, puts Rodrigo’s to shame. For, in the modern era, all a Miss Right Now has to do is stalk an ex-girlfriend’s social media from the safety of her own bedroom rather than actually meet up with her in real life under false pretenses. That level of obsession is far more suited to the verse, “If I told you how much I think about her/You’d think I was in love/And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures/You would think we’re best friends.” Carrie, however, is much too narcissistic to lay claim to the following declarations in “Obsessed”: “‘Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type/I’ve seen every movie she’s been in, and, oh god, she’s beautiful/And I know you loved her, and I know I’m butthurt/But I can’t help it, no, I can’t help it.” 

    And what Carrie can’t help is being irritated by Barbara’s good looks and ostensible good taste when she immediately tells Carrie, “I’m a huge fan of your work.” This speaks automatically to Rodrigo’s vexed tone when she sings, “She’s talented, she’s good with kids/She even speaks kindly about me.” Having come face to face with “the enemy,” Carrie tries to remove the encounter from her thoughts, giving the voiceover, “That night, I thought I could put the whole Barbara thing out of my mind. After all, Mr. Big was with me now.” That he is, as Carrie lies in bed with him trying to get into some hanky panky before she imagines Barbara “supervising” the whole thing and berating, “Nibbling his earlobes? How sweet. Let me show you how it’s really done.”

    This makes Carrie feel hopeless and “lesser than” anew as she instantly recoils from Big and turns to face the other way, musing inwardly, “So I guess you couldn’t avoid a threesome. Because even if you’re the only person in the bed, someone has always been there before you.” Such an assessment is in line with Rodrigo’s chorus, “I’m so obsessed with your ex/I know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed, and I can feel it/I’m starin’ at her like I wanna get hurt/And I remember every detail you have ever told me, so be careful, baby.”

    Big, not so clueless as to ignore her strange mood, prods, “Hey, what just happened? Where’d you go?” She shrugs, “I was preoccupied.” “No kidding. About what?” Carrie’s internal voice then replies, “Your ex-wife’s breasts, your ex-wife’s lips, your ex-wife’s long legs.” Damn, talk about obsessed. In such a way that also applies to Rodrigo’s self-referential lament, “​​She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips/The life of every fuckin’ party.” These two lines giving a nod to both “all-american bitch” (sarcastically announcing, “I’m a perfect all-american bitch/With perfect all-american lips/And perfect all-american hips”) and “ballad of a homeschooled girl” (“the party’s done and I’m no fun”—hence, she herself is no life of the party). Rodrigo adds to that, “And I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy/But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her.” This being an inverse allusion to her role in “deja vu.” Like Carrie, Olivia knows that, technically, “You both have moved on, you don’t even talk/But I can’t help it, I got issues, I can’t help it, baby.”

    When Carrie manages to get a few more details out of Big, he quickly closes the “ex file” (a term Carrie will later use on Jack Berger [Ron Livingston] in the season six episode, “The Perfect Present”) by saying, “Let’s not talk about the past, please.” Carrie then allows herself to be held by him, but still imagines Barbara in bed right next to her as she narrates, “What Mr. Big didn’t realize was the past was sleeping right next to me.” Rodrigo clearly has some of those same sentiments. 

    Co-written with St. Vincent a.k.a. Anne “Annie” Clark and Dan Nigro, one has to wonder if either of the three parties watched “Three’s A Crowd” at any point during the song’s creation. For it so perfectly sums up Carrie’s dilemma in this episode. And now, Rodrigo’s in “Obsessed.” However, the takeaway that Rodrigo doesn’t seem to glean is the one Carrie comes up with by the end: “I realized the real appeal of the threesome: it was easy. It’s intimacy that’s the bitch.” Of course, this reinforces the monogamous heteronormative belief that a person can only have “true intimacy” with one other person. A philosophy that Rodrigo, in her bid to graft 90s and 00s-era pop culture for everything she does, is only too ready to perpetuate.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Most Glaring Issue About Madame Web Is Actually Its Timeline Faux Pas With Britney Spears’ “Toxic” and Mis-Teeq’s “Scandalous”

    The Most Glaring Issue About Madame Web Is Actually Its Timeline Faux Pas With Britney Spears’ “Toxic” and Mis-Teeq’s “Scandalous”

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    Like any superhero movie pushing women as its leads, Madame Web suffered a backlash that was almost strangely proportionate to Morbius—which was actually far worse. The Marvels, too, was panned, along with She-Hulk, in a pattern that suggests when women do “badly,” male fanboys are ready to pounce in such a way so as to ensure that studios are amply aware of it. And oh, how Sony became aware of it, scrapping any future plans to build a franchise out of Madame Web once the box office receipts were in. But what’s most unforgivable about Madame Web isn’t its plotline or even its more than occasionally cheesy dialogue (often rampant with use of ADR). No, instead, it’s certain musical details in particular that will gnaw at anyone versed in both their 00s and Britney history.

    First in line on the offending front is the fact that “Toxic,” a single released in January of 2004 is being played when we’re still supposed to be in 2003. And it’s not even like it’s the winter of 2003, well after Spears’ fourth album, In the Zone, was released in mid-November. This can be gleaned by the fact that Cassandra (a rather too on-the-nose name choice for someone who can see into the future) Webb, played by Dakota Johnson, attends a barbeque in some fairly late summer-y clothing (being a Jessica Jones type thanks to S. J. Clarkson’s work in that universe, she’s bound to wear a jacket during any season). In truth, the entire cast dresses in a late summer/early fall manner, so it’s safe to say this is well before “Toxic” or even In the Zone could have conceivably been released.

    Another giveaway that we’re still in summer of ’03 territory is the set design of a particular scene that chooses to very deliberately spotlight a looming poster of Beyoncé’s debut album, Dangerously in Love, which only would have been that loud and proud in June of ‘03 (what with New York constantly turning over its ad space), many months before In the Zone came out, not to mention “Toxic” itself, which wouldn’t be released to radio as a single until January of ‘04. Maybe December, if someone wants to truly believe in how “ahead of the curve” New York is. But since we’re clearly somewhere in the summer of ‘03, this little detail just doesn’t quite jive (to use a word that Britney’s erstwhile record label named itself after). This seems to be happening with, dare one say, slight regularity as the 00s slip evermore into the “period piece” category. Saltburn, too, was guilty of such inattention to detail about 2007 in particular, yet it was perhaps more easily forgiven because it ended up being so beloved (in no small part thanks to Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s “Murder on the Dance Floor”). 

    As for Madame Web being oddly specific about wanting to set its stage in 2003 (and in case one isn’t immediately sure it’s 2003 based on the quickly-flashed title card, Cassie is shown driving past a Blockbuster in her ambulance), director and co-writer S. J. Clarkson’s reasoning could be twofold: 1) she wanted to start the movie during a flashback to 1973 and then only flashforward thirty years to reveal present-day Cassandra and 2) 2003 is sort of that “sweet spot,” technology-wise. A time when things were advanced enough with phones and computers (hell, Britney was already singing love songs centered on e-mails in 1998, when “E-Mail My Heart” was recorded), but not so advanced that your every move could be tracked, and your face instantly recognized on any CCTV camera.

    This, obviously, is why the extremely lame villain of the narrative, Ezekiel Sims (Tahar Rahim), is obsessed with some “cutting-edge” technology that only the NSA (on especially high alert at that time in the wake of 9/11) has access to. Enough to seduce one of its agents and steal her top-secret access to this “special tech” that would become garden-variety in most people’s phones after 2007. Alas, since we’re still in the “early days” of facial recognition, Ezekiel is sure to include (quite expositorily) in his pillow talk, “But as the years pass, there have been technological advances. New ways to find people if you know their faces [which he does because he has nightly visions of the three Spider-Women who will kill him]. The kind of technology I’ve heard the National Security Agency has been pursuing.”

    Once he gets the woman’s security access after poisoning her, he passes the technology off to his “employee,” Amaria (Zosia Mamet, seeming to enjoy roles where she works for dubious people if The Flight Attendant is another indication), who hacks into “the system” to wait for a hit on one or all of these faces: Mattie (Celeste O’Connor), Anya (Isabela Merced) and Julia (Sydney Sweeney). With regard to Sweeney once again going the Euphoria route by playing a teen girl, it bears noting that, at twenty-six, she isn’t all that much younger than “thirty-year-old” Cassandra (Johnson’s actual age is thirty-four). Meanwhile, O’Connor is twenty-five and Merced is twenty-two. Yet it’s Sweeney who the costume designers seem to go out of their way to dress in some interpretation of an 00s teen girl. This tends to mean a lot of Britney looks, including overalls at one point and then, for the majority of the movie, Sweeney’s own riff on a “…Baby One More Time” schoolgirl outfit.

    Relying on Cassie and her premonitions after they’re attacked on the train by Ezekiel, the man they’ll keep referring to as “ceiling guy,” the “teens” trust her enough to let her lead them into some secluded woods where no one can track them, technologically anyway. Afterward, Cassie is foolish enough to tell a trio of teen girls to “stay put” (as if), leaving them to go do some more “research” on who this “ceiling guy” is by returning to her apartment and going through her mother’s old journals from 1973. As she conveniently unearths the valuable information that will tell her who Ezekiel is, the trio grows bored and hungry enough to abandon the woods in favor of a diner off the highway. It’s during this scene that Mis-Teeq’s “Scandalous” starts playing. Which would be passable (since it did exist in 2003), one supposes, were it not for the fact that the director then makes it very clear that the song is playing diegetically. Heard by everyone at the diner as they walk in to the tune of “Scandalous” then sounding over the speakers. The same goes for Spears’ “Toxic,” with Mattie even announcing, “I love this song.”

    Back in the woods, Cassie returns to find an empty clearing followed by a vision wherein a key part of it is “Toxic” providing the soundtrack as the girls are attacked by “ceiling guy” at the diner they’ve absconded to. Cassie gets an immediate sense of foreboding when time “resets” again and the song’s signature opening notes start to play from her stolen taxi as the DJ declares, “This track is going to be huge! Are you in the zone?” Oddly, though—and despite all the radio pushing when it was actually unleashed on the airwaves—Mis-teeq’s “Scandalous” fared about as well on the charts with less radio rotation. This being another track “technically” in existence in 2003 (when it was released on Mis-Teeq’s second [and last] album, Eye Candy), it didn’t start popping off on U.S. radio until April of 2004. Its “revival,” so to speak, after already being played heavily in the UK and Japan during ‘03, made it ripe, apparently, to feature as the theme song for the Catwoman trailer. Now, call one “batty,” but it seems like a bit of an ill-omened idea not only to include a song from a rival comic book studio’s movie, but also a song from a rival comic book studio’s movie that was received so poorly. Indeed, Catwoman has a lower approval rating than Madame Web (eight percent to the latter’s twelve). 

    For an even weirder Britney/Mis-Teeq connection within these universes, Spears’ “Outrageous” was actually slated to be the movie’s theme before the pop star injured her leg while filming the video for it (which had nothing to do with Catwoman, but heavily featured Snoop Dogg). This, for one reason or another, led to Catwoman wielding “Scandalous” instead (which is just another word for “outrageous” anyway). But the only thing “scandalous” about Madame Web is its flagrant disregard for the correct radio airplay timeline. Something that the musical supervisors on the movie perhaps assumed would be the least of the audience’s grievances. And though “Toxic” is a great fit for a story about poison-delivering spider-people, due to this petit faux pas, it’s probably more at home as a string arrangement in Promising Young Woman (you know, the movie Emerald Fennell brought us before her own 00s-era inconsistencies in Saltburn).

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Cardi B’s “Enough (Miami)” Continues A Trend in Music Videos Where Nothing Actually Happens

    Cardi B’s “Enough (Miami)” Continues A Trend in Music Videos Where Nothing Actually Happens

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    As Cardi B continues her single-drop journey for 2024 (continuing to tease fans with the promise of a long overdue second album), she follows up the Missy Elliott-sampling “Like What (Freestyle)” with “Enough (Miami).” Opening the track with the repetition of “yeah” in a manner that harkens back to how she sounds at the beginning of “WAP,” Cardi says pretty much the same thing she does on “Like What (Freestyle)” about being superior to all other bitches and having more money than they do as well. The only marked distinctions between the two tracks (apart from beat) might be that Coach is name-checked in one, and Van Cleef in the other.

    Both songs also mention Cardi’s “opps” “linking up” to conspire against her. In “Like What (Freestyle),” that sounds like, “First, that bitch hate me, then this bitch hate me/And somehow, they link up and they become friends, like, how?” In “Enough (Miami),” it becomes: “I see my opps linkin’ up, I’m like, ‘What in the fuck?’” Many believe Cardi is alluding to City Girls’ JT (which seems to add up via the song being titled “Enough [Miami]”—from whence City Girls hail, plus JT’s “other half” is Yung Miami) after the latter blatantly shifted to Team Nicki despite working with Cardi on 2019’s “Twerk.”

    As for the visuals that accompany “Like What (Freestyle)” and “Enough (Miami),” the latter goes in an even more no-frills (and no clothes) direction (thanks to help from Patience Harding, in what marks her first music video in the role of director). Because at least “Like What (Freestyle),” directed by Cardi’s baby daddy a.k.a. “BD,” Offset, has an actual, tangible set. Even if it’s “just” a house. Albeit a lavish one. In “Enough (Miami),” Cardi takes the route that many rappers and pop stars alike before her have: going for the all-white backdrop (with some black and beige ones thrown in between). It’s a tradition that’s been employed by artists like Crystal Waters with “Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless),” MC Hammer with “U Can’t Touch This,” Warrant with “Cherry Pie,” Madonna with “Human Nature” (and, more germinally in her career, “Lucky Star”), Taylor Swift with “Shake It Off” and, to Cardi’s chagrin, Nicki Minaj with “Barbie Tingz.” And then, most recently of all, there’s been Miley Cryus’ rash of no-frills videos featuring only stark white or black backdrops, which we saw appear in “River,” “Used to Be Young” and, most freshly, “Doctor (Work It Out).”  

    And yet, per Cardi, she had the song (somewhat) ready back in January of 2023, which would have given her plenty of time to create a decent music video concept for it. But maybe what the lack of concept (apart from Cardi “looking hot” in a bunch of different couture outfits) says more than anything is that nothing is actually going on in the song—apart from the repetition of her usual profanities and insults, as well as flexes about how much money she has, and how embarrassing everyone else is for being poor. Something Cardi’s cohort, Megan Thee Stallion, got across quite effectively on Traumazine. And yes, Cardi uses a Megan Thee Stallion collaborator, OG Parker, for co-production on the track, with its beat being catchier than the lyrics themselves (though one does admire the Seussian stylings of Cardi rapping, “One bitch, two bitch, old bitch, new bitch/None of y’all bitches not gon’ do shit”). 

    Some might say that the lack of “plot,” so to speak, has more to do with putting a spotlight on the “striking” visuals Cardi is presenting with her body and clothes alone. However, if that’s the case, then why not go another similar route to the aforementioned Megan Thee Stallion in her “Body” video, during which, despite the spartan backdrops and non-narrative, she was able to at least bring back memorable choreography, in addition to providing her viewers with cameos galore throughout the video. In fact, it seemed Megan was pulling inspiration from more artful videos of the late 90s and early 00s, including Hype Williams’ “What’s It Gonna Be?!” by Busta Rhymes and Janet Jackson. 

    The trend in, let’s say, “lackluster” video concepts that have no narrative, but rely, instead, only on a lot of changing “looks” to distract the audience from no “there” being there has likely been compounded by both the pandemic and social media. It was during the former that musicians were forced to scale way back in terms of resources that could create grandiose concepts (see: Charli XCX’s “Claws” video). And perhaps seeing that one didn’t really need to keep bothering with much in the way of bombast (why not save budgets for something else?) since people’s expectations had already been so lowered, the necessity gave way to becoming increasingly the norm.

    As for social media’s influence, the fact that the masses have been able to contribute to the everyman aesthetic of banality over the years—reaching an apex with TikTok videos—has surely played some part in trickling back into the mainstream. Although Cardi could have delivered a much more elaborate music video (e.g., some kind of riff on Miami Vice or Scarface), she chose to keep it simple, relying, as is the stripper’s way, on her body to be the main attraction.

    The result is a music video that’s indistinguishable from most others (whether from Cardi B herself or any of her contemporaries), as viewers are made to keep forgetting what the pinnacle of the art form was ever like before this period of low budgets and laziness (at least storyline-wise). Gone are the days of “telling a tale” à la Britney Spears’ “Lucky” video. And when any attempt at story is made, it simply takes from some already well-known pop culture reference (as is the case with Ariana Grande’s “we can’t be friends [wait for your love]” video). Something Cardi B didn’t even feel obliged to do with this particular single.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Lily Allen and the “I Can’t Be An Artist Because I’m A Mother” Backlash

    Lily Allen and the “I Can’t Be An Artist Because I’m A Mother” Backlash

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    The topic of being a mother and the sacrifices that come with it is never an easy one to discuss. But it becomes even more of a political hot potato when the additional topic of being an artist is thrown in as well. In more recent years, it’s become a conundrum more philosophically analyzed and scrutinized in literature and pop culture alike. As for the former, Sheila Heti wrote an entire book (title, what else, Motherhood) about her decision not to become a mother precisely due to her fear of compromising her art. Some women truly feel/believe that one cannot exist without sacrificing the other. Lily Allen is clearly one of them—and maybe she’s not wrong. But it still seems that Allen has a bit of resentment/guilt about giving up on a key aspect (nay, the main aspect) of her artistic life: being a musician. That much was made clear during a promo interview for The Radio Times Podcast in honor of her own upcoming podcast (yes, it’s super meta) series, Miss Me?, co-hosted with lifelong friend Miquita Oliver. 

    It was during this amuse-bouche for Miss Me? that Allen remarked, “I never really had a strategy when it comes to career. Uh, but yes—my children ruined my career.” Oliver then looks at her in disbelief over how real she’s being as they both laugh about her decidedly British candor/sense of humor. Allen doubled down by adding “I mean I love them and they complete me [Jerry Maguire much?], but in terms of, like, pop stardom, totally ruined it. Yeah.” Oliver commends Allen’s honesty with, “That is such a good answer. I’m so happy to hear someone say that. Everyone’s like, ‘No, of course not!’” Allen quickly confirmed, “Does not mix. It really annoys me when people say you can have it all because, quite frankly, you can’t. And, you know, some people choose their career over their children and that’s their prerogative, but, you know, my parents were quite absent when I was a kid and I feel like that really left some, like, nasty scars that I’m not willing to, you know, repeat on mine. And so, I chose stepping back and concentrating on them and I’m glad that I’ve done that because I think they’re very well-rounded people.” Of course, when Allen’s children, Ethel and Marnie, grow old enough to hear about this little pull quote, it might leave its own nasty scar on them—realizing they were the direct cause of stifling their mother’s musical freedom and depriving the world of more Lily Allen records. 

    Then again, Allen hasn’t “full-stop” quit, with hints at her return coming as recently as this year, when she responded to a comment on Twitter (never to be referred to as X), “Please when are you making a follow-up to your best LP, No Shame?” with “I am making it now, I don’t know how long it will take, but you will be able to hear some things soon.” So clearly, Allen hasn’t “retired” from music if she can still find time to write a new album whilst “focusing on her kids.” Nor has it prevented her from other time-consuming creative endeavors like starring in a West End theater production (both 2:22 and Pillowman) or a TV show (Dreamland). Or, of course, making a podcast series with Oliver. But it would seem these things are more noncommittal than the rigors of putting out an album (Rihanna would appear to feel the same way, having taken a musical hiatus well before her post-children era and seeming to be spurred to maintain that hiatus after giving birth to two kids). Especially when a musician actually chooses to tour it. Yet Allen did do both of these things in 2014, when her daughters were three and one, respectively.

    Maybe, indeed, it was going on the Sheezus Tour that gave Allen a wake-up call about the “artist’s lifestyle” not entirely mixing with motherhood (mind you, this was also the period during which she admitted to having sex with female escorts out of sheer loneliness and depression—having her second child the year before had left her with a bout of postnatal depression, to boot). Because after that, Allen wouldn’t release a record for another four years, 2018’s No Shame. This album, like Sheezus with “Take My Place” (about the stillbirth of her first child with Sam Cooper in 2010), would also explore the complexities and heartbreaks of motherhood, namely on track nine, “Three,” which speaks from the perspective of her daughters as they watch her leave for tour or various other musically-related publicity blitzkriegs. Hence, sadness-filled lyrics like, “You say you love me, then you walk right out the door.”

    It was that line that perhaps provided Allen with the seed of the revelation that would come after touring No Shame in 2018-2019, coming to grips with the idea that maybe she had already missed so much of the early years and it was time to “settle down.” The timing of that epiphany seemed to coincide perfectly with meeting David Harbour in 2019, marrying him in 2020 and becoming a Carroll Gardens mom (second only to the similarly annoying Brooklyn cliche of a Park Slope mom). So it is that we haven’t seen any new music from Allen in six years. For context, her longest break between albums before that was the five-year period it took her to release Sheezus after It’s Not You, It’s Me. 

    And, talking of that sophomore album, her present comments about motherhood (in terms of “being there” in a way her own parents weren’t) and artistry are a sharp about-face from her last interview with Oliver in 2009, as It’s Not Me, It’s You was being released. During it, she told Oliver, “My childhood was tricky, but so is everyone’s I think. So, um, yeah. It affected me and made me the person I am today and I think I’m okay. Now.” If Allen were still to go by that, then perhaps she would keep making music and touring under the conception that absenteeism as a parent builds character. Raises children who are “tough” and imaginative. 

    Her one-eighty stance, alas, caused a backlash that was strong enough for Allen to retweet a defense from Charlotte Elmore saying, “Context for those going wild over a Lily Allen headline ⬇️ Let’s normalise not ✨having it all✨ and take the expectations down a notch?” But this is in direct contrast to everything the “modern woman” has been told, starting somewhere around the era of Baby Boom starring Diane Keaton. Yet, by the end of that film, viewers are ultimately left with the impression that “having it all” still requires some significant sacrifice/compromise (not to mention a boyfriend or husband). In short, a total reassessment of priorities.

    Then there was someone like Madonna, who actually leveled up after having her first child, releasing an album (arguably still her best: Ray of Light) inspired by the occurrence of transmogrifying into “Mother” (beyond just the gay definition of that word). And in a recent interview with Mary Gabriel about the biography she wrote on the Queen of Pop, the author argues that part of what makes Madonna so unique, so punk rock (when she’s not appearing in bank commercials) is her continued ability to be unapologetically an artist after becoming a mother. Specifically, she told MadonnaTribe, “When Madonna became a mother, she rescued older women from the exile that motherhood often imposes upon them. In 2000 when she wore her shirt with Rocco on the front and Lola on the back, she showed what a forty-something mother looked like. Jumping around the stage at the Brixton Academy, she exploded the idea that a woman of a certain age—especially a mother of a certain age—couldn’t be gorgeous, fun, sexy, strong and enjoying a career. At a time when companies didn’t promote women with children because they feared the woman would be too distracted, Madonna showed motherhood wasn’t a distraction, it was empowering.”

    Of course, here it bears noting that Madonna undeniably had plenty of hired help to aid in this process (speaking on that reality frankly with the “American Life” rap, “I got a lawyer and a manager, an agent and a chef/Three nannies, an assistant, and a driver and a jet/A trainer and a butler and a bodyguard or five/A gardener and a stylist, do you think I’m satisfied?”). Something Allen could technically afford to invoke as well, but has perhaps since thought better of it than the days when she was still releasing new music and touring circa 2014 and 2018. 

    Or maybe, as a Brooklynite, she found herself reading 2021’s Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder for added confirmation of her decision to “stand down,” as that book is all about the struggle for a female artist to keep working at her art after having a child, eventually turning that struggle into performance art (with the child incorporated into it). Also recently added to the culture of this mother-or-artist conundrum, Halsey’s If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power (like Nightbitch, also released in 2021) explores the territory of motherhood/womanhood when it comes to continuing to pursue art post-childbirth. Halsey appears to be conflicted on the matter as well, with lyrics like, “Go on and be a big girl/You asked for this now/You better show ’em why you talk so loud” and “I just wanna feel somethin’, tell me where to go/‘Cause everybody knows somethin’ I don’t wanna know/So I stay right here ’cause I’m better all alone/Yeah, I’m better all alone.” Described by Halsey as a concept album (Allen has, incidentally, said that’s what her next album is going to be, too) centered on the specific “horrors of pregnancy and childbirth,” it’s apparent that Allen isn’t the only female artist with some very mixed emotions on the matter of motherhood. Especially as it relates to continuing to be an artist at all. 

    During Allen’s formative years as a millennial, it was Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) who further corroborated the idea that women could “have it all” in the season three Sex and the City episode, “All or Nothing” (which first aired in 2000). A title that unwittingly speaks to what Allen is saying about choosing between one thing or another: artistry or motherhood (some would say artistry is the “all,” while motherhood is the “nothing”). And, lest anyone forget, Samantha was more of a perennially single, “non-mother” type than Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) herself, so maybe it was easier to make such a declaration. 

    And so, if Allen can confirm that, sooner or later, a choice must be made (or it will be made for you) about art or motherhood, it certainly doesn’t make the latter sound any more appealing to those women who do view their art as their true child. Besides, does any kid really want to be referred to as “Mommy’s favorite mistake” once they see in adulthood that they stymied their mum’s creative output?

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Madonna and the Wheelchair Debacle

    Madonna and the Wheelchair Debacle

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    While many things unrelated to the remarkable nature of the tour itself have made headlines (including a certain tumble in Seattle) since Madonna kicked off The Celebration Tour in London back in October of ‘23, one of the least likely to be foreseen on the proverbial bingo card was wheelchair-shaming by none other than Madonna herself. Unintended of course. But it nonetheless still made for some cringeworthy content. During which Madonna, upon approaching the audience to get a closer look at who dared not to stand up when she told them to, made the quick apology, “Politically incorrect. Sorry about that.” Ironically, though, Madonna has made her entire career out of being politically incorrect—perhaps only now coming to realize that it no longer works as effectively in the rigid, faux-woke climate of the present. 

    The foray into needlessly putting a spotlight on an audience member using a wheelchair started “innocently” enough as she shouted to the Los Angeles crowd, “…take this ride with me! What are you doing sitting down over there? I—what are you doing sitting down?” Appearing genuinely affronted by the perceived “lack of enthusiasm” where most performers might have left it alone, Madonna, ever the “pushy broad” she’s known for being, kept pursuing the matter, subsequently taking her mic off the stand so she could walk to the edge of the stage and better berate the person. 

    Alas, upon closer examination—and as the crowd cheered her on for her beratement (themselves not knowing the whole story either)—she saw the reason why the person “chose” to remain seated, immediately reacting with, “Oh. Okay.” She then added, in something resembling a Valley Girl accent (it was, after all, at one of her L.A. performances), “Politically incorrect. Sorry about that.” She quickly followed that up with the insistence, “I’m glad you’re here.” Which somehow came across as more demoralizing than welcoming, as though calling out the fact that somebody in a wheelchair shouldn’t be able to engage in such “regular person” activities as concert-going. Not “shouldn’t” from, like, a “societally shunned” perspective, but “shouldn’t” from a “oh it must be so hard for you to get by at all” perspective. Something that not only invokes the kind of pity Madonna herself would abhor, but also fails to take into account that California—the milieu where she was performing—is among the most accommodating states for people with a physical disability (with San Francisco and L.A. topping the list of the most wheelchair-friendly cities in the United States). However, considering that Madonna is still of an era when it was acceptable to say “handicapped” and managed to fall into the trap of being the very thing she once accused Lady Gaga of being (“reductive”) by calling Californians at the March 9th show, “You flip-flop, short-wearin’ motherfuckers!,” perhaps her view of the physically disabled is still entrenched in the past. Hence, her surprise at seeing someone of the kind at her show. 

    Funnily enough, it was also during the March 9th date at the Kia Forum that Madonna mentioned the importance of having an avatar, so to speak, of her 1982 “incarnation” onstage with her so as to remind herself what she stood for, and what she has always stood for. This, in theory, is tolerance and acceptance for everyone—making everyone feel as though they belong and are in a “safe space” so long as they’re with her (whether via her music or in person at a live show). Unfortunately, the exact opposite of that was displayed by Madonna in this brief but mortifying (for all involved) exchange.

    And it’s not just  people who use a wheelchair that Madonna might end up making feel uncomfortable with such behavior, but also anyone with the “gall” to enjoy a concert without standing up or screaming/singing along to every word throughout the show. Sometimes, even a select few performers admit to despising this, as it prevents their own ability to sing the songs very well over the din of the crowd (something Lorde went viral for a while back, during an instant when she shushed the audience while trying to sing an a capella version of “Writer in the Dark”). 

    The performer’s argument, though, usually aligns with Madonna’s long-standing spiel about how she feeds off the visible/audible energy of the crowd, hence her contempt for anyone she sees in the audience and instantly clocks as “not having a good time” (these reactions immortalized in Truth or Dare when she tells her manager of the L.A. crowd, “Somebody stuck some big fat man up in the front to give me dirty looks. I swear to God. There was only industry people in the first two rows… They totally bummed me out. They sat there with their arms folded, dirty looks on their faces. I swear to God… It was so distracting and so depressing to me to have two rows of people looking like they weren’t there to have fun”). But what if some people don’t feel that displays of “having a good time” need to mean that you’re screaming or smiling like a goddamn idiot?

    Indeed, that’s one of the worst parts (nay, the worst part) about concert-going for introverts and generally shy people—the pressure to conform to how you’re “supposed to” act at a show (some people will even opt to miss out on seeing their favorite musician precisely because of these warranted phobias). Especially when the very performer putting it on is directly pressuring you to do so. Madonna and the “wheelchair debacle” highlights many important conversations about how to amend the concert-going experience in the future for those who don’t fit into the so-called norm of what’s “right,” or “expected” of someone just because the majority acts a certain way at a show. 

    Interestingly, at the March 5th date, she shaded L.A. once more by remarking, “This is probably too intellectual for a show at the Forum.” But Madonna proved herself to be unwittingly anti-intellectual by making “one size fits all” assumptions about her audience members. This, again, being the very thing her brand has gone against since its inception. Dichotomously, though, Madonna’s music has reached so many people and become so popular over the decades that she herself has become “one size fits all,” the way most juggernaut icons do (e.g., the increasingly problematic yet still pervasive Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson). Perhaps when that happens, it does an icon some good to be rudely awakened by a scenario such as this.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Damsel Leaves Only Distress (And a Yearning to Watch The Princess Bride)

    Damsel Leaves Only Distress (And a Yearning to Watch The Princess Bride)

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    Being that Millie Bobby Brown has, thus far, been known for her discernment when it comes to choosing roles in her still germinal career, Damsel has proven to be a noticeable disappointment in her filmography (not that her Godzilla forays are for everyone). Directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo (whose most major work is 28 Weeks Later, not even 28 Days Later), the problem isn’t as much in the flat style of the film, but its script, written by Dan Mazeau, who is known for directing more male-oriented movies like Wrath of the Titans and Fast X. In tapping Mazeau to write the script, perhaps Netflix was hoping to bring a dash of “laddishness” to the “strong” and “willful” character played by Brown, Elodie. In fact, all we really know about Elodie is that she is strong and willful…for a girl. That usual backhanded caveat that materializes when women can prove themselves to have the same qualities as men. Or rather, the same qualities that men are supposed to embody based on societal expectations. 

    Damsel is all about expectations, even if not really societal ones. Instead, the expectations are unique to the fictional milieu of Aurea. A place briefly shown (albeit in a cave) during the first few moments of the film when a king and his soldiers come face to face with a fire-breathing dragon that’s about to kill them all. Before we can find out if or how the king is spared, Fresnadillo cuts to the title card: “CENTURIES LATER…IN A FARAWAY LAND.” The viewer is then introduced to Elodie in a way that establishes what a “special” and “unusual” girl she is (in the same way as Belle from Beauty and the Beast—another role one could see Brown playing if Emma Watson hadn’t already done it for the live action version). Because—gasp!—she’s chopping wood. So hardcore! So self-sufficient! And she has to be, because she lives in a barren land where her people are starving. Not yet a queen, her father, Lord Bayford (Ray Winstone, more than slightly out of place in a movie like this), remains the rather incompetent king married to Elodie’s stepmother, Lady Bayford (Angela Bassett, who apparently needed a paycheck as well). This union between a white man and a Black woman goes unacknowledged in terms of being anything “unusual” for that epoch, as it seems to be the Netflix way to employ revisionist histories (à la Bridgerton). 

    What also goes unacknowledged as viewers watch the plot unfold is the idea that there isn’t really any need for all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the Aurean tradition of sacrificing a bride to the dragon that the Aurean king from the intro struck a deal with all those centuries ago. Mainly because, if the whole means of tricking the dragon into believing that the Aurean royals are sacrificing their own “daughters” as recompense for the three baby dragons the Aurean soldiers brutally murdered is as simple as slicing open any girl’s palm and slapping it with an Aurean royal’s sliced-open palm, then, honestly, why bother with a wedding? Or searching far and wide for a girl to fit the bill when, clearly, as viewers will see by the end of act two, when Elodie’s younger sister, Floria (Brooke Carter), is taken captive as a “replacement” for Elodie once she achieves the formerly impossible by escaping from the dragon’s lair, any human with a vagina can suffice. What’s more, the Aurean royals could have simply indoctrinated their “common people” with the rhetoric that being a sacrifice to the dragon was the ultimate “good deed” they could do for their king and queen. Problem solved…and any expenses on a wedding spared.

    Queen Isabelle (Robin Wright, who has fallen far from the gritty grandeur of The Princess Bride in this outing), the “queen bee” of the royals who arranged these nuptials in the first place, is certainly not happy about the revelation regarding Elodie’s escape (sounding kind of like a Scooby-Doo villain when she says, “I knew that girl was going to be trouble!”). Thus, she leverages Floria as bait, knowing full well that someone as “brave” and “morally upstanding” as Elodie will be foolish enough to come back for her. Plucking her from the ship that her father and stepmother kept waiting after Lord Bayford developed a guilty conscience and tried to go back and rescue his daughter (to no avail), Floria is taken to the same cave. It is there that Elodie’s not so princely husband, Henry (Nick Robinson), reaches his breaking point (apparently, a girl being too childlike is enough for him to miraculously develop a conscience). And so, when he decides to refuse his mother’s demands to toss Floria in the hole, too, she snaps, “A prince protects his kingdom. Without hesitation or complaint. Give me your hand” (sounds like what “King” Charles might have said to Prince William before posting the doctored photo of Kate Middleton). Henry replies, “I cannot do this. She’s just a child.” Irritated by his flickers of humanity, Queen Isabelle spits back, “You’re weak” before then approaching Floria herself to perform the blood oath. With all the pretense cast aside in a moment of “desperation,” the viewer has it officially confirmed that this entire movie is built on an extremely flimsy pretext. 

    A pretext that doesn’t even lead to something all that worthwhile filmically, unless one enjoys watching Elodie wander blindly through a cave for the majority of the movie. And yes, there are pervs who might particularly enjoy it when she stands beneath a dripping portion of the “orifice” with her mouth agape, full-on blow job-style. Or perhaps one might find the dragon’s incessant gabbing (voiced by Shohreh Aghdashloo) a source of “charming amusement” when all else fails. 

    Considering the casting of Robin Wright, it’s obvious the creators were hoping for some kind of “update” to 1987’s The Princess Bride—for it’s in that same realm of the fantastical, medieval genre (adventure fantasy, if you prefer). These types of movies being far more pervasive in the 1980s perhaps because things had become too modern for people. If there’s a resurgence of the genre now, then it’s likely for the same reason. Unfortunately, 1) they just don’t make such movies the way they used to and 2) in order to make this kind of movie in the present, the new requirement is that there needs to be a gimmick. In this case, the one about how Elodie is no damsel in distress, taking that word and its association and slaying it with as much vitriol as she does the dragon. Except, oh wait, the other twist/“modern update” to how one tells a medieval story is that she does not slay the dragon. Instead sparing it because it has its own empathetic backstory. And to drive home the point that women themselves have more empathy for others than men.

    While “passable” for those who don’t know any better, one imagines that Brown and others working on the project hoped Damsel would offer some grand message about female independence (this heightened by the overt marketing ploy of releasing it on March 8th, International Women’s Day), and that any other actual plot holes (apart from just the hole Elodie is thrown into) could easily go ignored thanks to an aura of empowerment. Alas, not so much. And if you’re looking to watch a movie with the word “damsel” in its title, you might be better off trying Whit Stillman’s Damsels in Distress.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Irony of “I’m Just Ken” Grafting “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” at the 2024 Oscars

    The Irony of “I’m Just Ken” Grafting “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” at the 2024 Oscars

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    There is a long tradition of women emulating Marilyn Monroe’s famed performance of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. In fact, it is very much a women’s song and visual (even if directed by Howard Hawks) that speaks on things being more satisfying (and enduring) than men. A sardonic sendup of the material girl trope—which is how many men still view women, seventy-one-ish years later (the film was released in July of 1953). This being, of course, why Madonna chose to tongue-in-cheekly reuse it in her 1985 video for “Material Girl.”

    In fact, after that, Madonna not only secured her position as the Queen of Postmodernism (sorry Ariana Grande), but, in many ways, prompted a new generation to forget that Marilyn Monroe was the original pink gown-wearer traipsing about on a pink staircase as tuxedoed men fawned over and followed her around with rebuffed gifts. Granted, Carol Channing (a gay icon with a decided contempt for gays) was the first to bring Lorelei Lee to life on Broadway in 1949, but Monroe eclipsed that performance with her celluloid prowess. 

    Thus, the eternal Hollywood love of paying homage to that segment of the film that helped launch Monroe into “instant icon” status. After “Material Girl,” the next most memorable homage would become Nicole Kidman’s. Specifically, as Satine in 2001’s Moulin Rouge! (during which she incorporates the verse from “Material Girl,” “‘Cause we are living in a material world/And I am a material girl”). Many other musicians, including Kylie Minogue, Beyoncé and Christina Aguilera, have referenced/performed the song and visual as well, but not until 2020’s Birds of Prey (which would also feature a riff on “Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend” by Megan Thee Stallion and Normani called “Diamonds” for the soundtrack) was the re-creation of the performance so blatant again. Uncannily enough, Barbie’s star (one hates to break it to Ryan Gosling), Margot Robbie—as Harley Quinn—would be the one to engage in her own macabre sendup of the original. For added Hollywood incestuousness (or “six degrees of separation,” if you prefer), Ewan McGregor (who plays Christian in Moulin Rouge!) appears in the scene with her in his own modern take on the 1950s-era tuxedo (this one without tails).

    Indeed, he was the one who, as Roman Sionis/Black Mask, caused her to hallucinate such a fantasy in the first place after slapping her with enough force. This after taunting her about losing the Joker’s favor in the wake of their breakup, “For all your noise and bluster, you’re just a silly little girl with no one around to protect her.” The accusation of being a silly little girl (when not instead substituted by the venomous “epithets” of “bitch” and/or “slut”) remains one of the most effortless ways for a man to demean a woman. And demeanment is, unfortunately, on the rise rather than on the decline—a reality that Ken brings to life onscreen with his inferiority complex that ends up causing him to destroy the matriarchal utopia of Barbie Land. 

    The reason? He wants attention, of course (not to mention praise and acknowledgement for doing nothing). For when “silly little boys” posing as men have their ego threatened, most of the rest of the world suffers (see: Donald Trump, who outshines Ken’s tan with orangeness). And when they see that the spotlight isn’t enough on them, they’re liable to mimic the person (particularly if that person is a woman) getting the most attention in a manner so obnoxious that it cannot be ignored. That, to this viewer, is how Gosling’s performance of “I’m Just Ken” came across at the 96th Annual Academy Awards (complete with the additional sausage party “cachet” of Guns n’ Roses’ Slash on guitar). For not only was Monroe something of the original Barbie (minus the rail-thin body type), but she was somebody that men were always trying to co-opt for themselves. Trying to turn into their little doll and take credit for “inventing” her out of the raw clay that was Norma Jeane Baker. But Marilyn was her own creation. It was just often hard for her to remember that with all the men around (including Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller) filling her head with mantras that she was somehow “wrong” or “unequipped.”

    Thus, for Gosling to graft the “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” number for himself doesn’t feel “feminist,” so much as an unwanted and unnecessary impingement on Marilyn Land, ergo Women’s Land (known to some as Barbie Land). Marilyn, who died before she could suffer the inevitable Hollywood criticisms about looking old. Barbie, at least, has the benefit of being perennially plastic so as to uphold her Aryan-centric good looks. 

    Incidentally, during his Oscar monologue, host Jimmy Kimmel made a crack about Gosling and Robbie winning the genetic lottery. But even those (read: women) with good looks and regular plastic surgery upkeep end up falling prey to what Marilyn forewarns of in her illustrious number: “Men grow cold as girls grow old/And we all lose our charms in the end.” Unless, of course, you’re the kind of privileged white male that Ken embodies. Greta Gerwig, by creating “empathy” for such a character, perhaps didn’t fully understand what she hath wrought in doing so. Nor has Gosling fully understood the homoerotic coding (posing as a “butch” interpretation) he’s entered into the canon of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” performances (already gay kryptonite to begin with, especially at drag shows). 

    Maybe Kimmel foreshadowed as much by making the Brokeback Mountain-related joke (also during his monologue) to Gosling, “You are so hot. Let’s go camping together and not tell our wives.” Because women, as has been emphasized repeatedly in life and in pop culture, are secondary to “men’s things” (which takes on a new level and meaning in terms of gay men imitating straight women). Even when they were originally “women’s things” (à la “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend”) to begin with. Nonetheless, Ken’s “big dick Kenergy” still proved no match for fellow Barbie Soundtrack-er Billie Eilish in the Best Original Song category. But a “What Was I Made For?” win is, in effect, an “I’m Just Ken” win. Because what belongs to women also belongs to men (#dowry). That is, in “liberal” Hollywood, what Gretchen Wieners would call “just, like, the laws of feminism.” 

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    Genna Rivieccio

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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

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    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.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Madonna and Kylie Minogue Cause the Gays to Short Circuit

    Madonna and Kylie Minogue Cause the Gays to Short Circuit

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    Talk about “being in your head all weekend.” For the image that Madonna and Kylie Minogue have left behind in the wake of performing “I Will Survive” (the gayest of the gay anthems by none other than Gloria Gaynor) and “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” is something that has caused many an older gay gentleman’s synapses to short circuit. The performance in question occurred when Minogue joined Madonna onstage at her March 7th date of The Celebration Tour at Los Angeles’ Kia Forum. (Unsurprisingly, Madonna timed her rash of L.A. dates to coincide with when the Academy Awards would be taking place [March 10th], for it’s no secret that M and her manager, Guy Oseary, are beloved for the Oscar party they’ve been throwing since 2008.) Fittingly, their long overdue public union onstage (and in life) would serve as something of a nod to March 8th’s International Women’s Day (or at least that’s how the duo is billing it). And what could be more inspiring than two such women supporting one another?

    The genesis of that support really began on November 16, 2000, when Madonna performed “Music” at the MTV European Music Awards whilst wearing a black tank top with Kylie Minogue’s name shinily emblazoned on it (along with a pair of then-fashionable very low-rise pants). Incidentally, Minogue was also at the same awards show, and performed “Kids” with Robbie Williams. While on the red carpet afterward, Madonna was asked about her recent predilection for wearing tees of Britney and Kylie, to which she replied, “Well, it’s really my celebration of other girls in pop music, basically. I had to give a big-up to Britney and then I had to give a big-up to Kylie… I think they’re the cutest.” And yes, Spears, too, has famously joined Madonna onstage during one of her tours before—once again, at an L.A. date (so don’t try to say the NY shows have superior celebrity cameos ‘cause they don’t). Specifically, the November 6, 2008 one at Dodger Stadium, where Spears cameo’d for “Human Nature” (appropriate, considering its “Piece of Me” vibe and the fact that Madonna used backdrops of Spears pacing around in an elevator for it). 

    This cameo by Minogue, however, appears to be more deeply felt. Not just by the audience of swooning gays, but by Madonna and Minogue themselves. Accordingly, Minogue posted a video of herself dancing on the floor of the arena as Madonna performed “Ray of Light” in the background, captioning it, “MADONNA It’s been a long time coming. LOVED being with you!!!! Celebration Tour AND it is now International Women’s Day …. THANK YOU and LOVE LOVE LOVE.” Madonna was slightly less gushing (she’s still a tough-talking, brass balls-packing Midwestern girl, after all) with her own caption beneath a high-quality video of their performance together: “Couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate International Woman’s Day…………………Then to Sing with @kylieminogue.”

    In fact, wearing that instantly iconic ensemble back in 2000 was part of Madonna celebrating women outside of “just one day out of life.” At the time, while being interviewed on a 2000 episode of Celebrity!, Minogue said she was “chuffed” about seeing M wear the shirt. Right after her assessment, the host passed Minogue a gift containing a riff on that top bearing the name “MADONNA” instead (an uncanny foreshadowing of twenty-four years later, evidently). Although Minogue has been asked countless times since the beginning of her career about 1) what she thinks of Madonna and 2) how she feels regarding being so often compared to Madonna (with Minogue’s responses being gracious…most of the time), the two never seemed to align—meeting or collaboration-wise. 

    In 2011, she told an interviewer for The Sydney Morning Herald, “I’ve only met her briefly [backstage at the 2000 EMAs, as it were]. We have some friends in common and, you know, a message will go back and forth and she says, ‘Hi’ or I say, ‘Hi.’” And now they’ve said so much more—hopefully feeling comfortable enough at this point to message directly back and forth. A newly-established dynamic that many are likely hoping could lead to the frequently teased potential song they might make together. 

    Minogue’s own talk of wanting to do a collaboration with the woman she, too, calls “the Queen” has been repeated more than once over the years, including during an interview for HuffPost UK when asked if she would be interested in doing a song with M, to which Kylie noted, “Maybe the world would stop mid-orbit or something.” For about five minutes in Inglewood on March 7th, it kind of did. 

    But, as Minogue herself said, it’s been a long time coming. Indeed, over the past year, Madonna and Kylie have been dancing around each other (no pun intended) more than usual. That dance started around the time Minogue released “Padam Padam” in the spring of 2023. Mainly because said lead single from Tension was an instant chart-topping success despite the then fifty-three-year-old (she was eight days shy of fifty-four when the song was released) reciting lyrics that many (chiefly Republicans) would still deem age inappropriate, regardless of the numerous strides that have supposedly been made when it comes to not judging women through an ageist lens.

    In contrast, Madonna, in later years, has rarely received so much attention or praise for a song (save for, oddly enough, her collaboration with The Weeknd and Playboi Carti on “Popular”) featuring her own similar use of “youthisms” in lyrics (hear: “Candy Shop,” “Girl Gone Wild,” “Some Girls and “S.E.X.,” among others). 

    Granted, she’s never really gone so far as to say something (at least not in what her critics would call her “geriatric phase”) like, “I know you wanna take me home/And get to know me close…/I know you wanna take me home/And take off all my clothes” or “This place is crowdin’ up/I think it’s time for you to take me out this club/And we don’t need to use our words/Wanna see what’s underneath that t-shirt.” And, in spite of being a notoriously ageist community themselves, the gays probably did wanna see what was underneath Minogue’s Madonna t-shirt last night, so obsessed can they be with aesthetic appraisal. But that might have been the thing that truly caused a short circuit from which none of them could ever return. Besides, maybe Madonna casually dry humping Minogue was enough.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Ariana Grande’s “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” Video: A Postmodernist’s Wet Dream

    Ariana Grande’s “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” Video: A Postmodernist’s Wet Dream

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    It’s safe to say that, of all the pop stars working today (apart from, of course, Madonna), Ariana Grande is the one most blatantly enamored of postmodernism—wherein no distinction exists between high and low art, and references galore are placed in a “pastiche blender.” Even more than her contemporaries, Lana Del Rey and Taylor Swift, Grande is the most obvious in how she’ll take a piece of pop culture and “reinterpret” it. Though perhaps some would say she’s merely recreating it, shot-for-shot, à la Gus Van Sant with Psycho. That much can practically be said of the video for her second single from Eternal Sunshine, “we can’t be friends (wait for your love).” This following her other pastiche-drenched video for “yes, and?,” which is a knockoff of Paula Abdul’s “Cold Hearted” video. 

    As with “yes, and?,” Christian Breslauer also directed “we can’t be friends (wait for your love),” marking their second collaboration. Perhaps they didn’t end up working together sooner due to Grande’s long-standing devotion to Hannah Lux Davis, who has brought us so many Grande music videos over the years, including “Bang Bang,” “Love Me Harder,” “Focus,” “Into You,” “Side to Side,” “breathin,” “thank u, next” (also filled with movie-related pastiche), “7 rings,” “break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored,” “boyfriend” and “Don’t Call Me Angel.”

    But “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” has a different vibe from all of those aforementioned light-hearted videos (of which, even “breathin” was more light-hearted than this). Suffused with the kind of melancholia and restraint that comes in the wake of a breakup, Grande and Breslauer take what Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufman did in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and distill it down to four minutes and forty-three seconds (something Kaufman would likely be horrified by). Starting with Grande being in the waiting room of “Brighter Days Inc.” (dumbed down from the more “esoteric” company name in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Lacuna Inc.—lacuna meaning “an unfilled space; a gap”), Grande’s penchant for pastiche might even extend to the 2004 (also when Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was released) video for Gwen Stefani’s “What You Waiting For?” In it, Stefani also finds her in a dubious, nondescript waiting room filling out a form filled with odd questions (e.g., “Do you like the smell of gasoline?”). Except it isn’t to help erase her memory, but rather, “be inspired” a.k.a. get rid of her writer’s block. Grande doesn’t tend to have any issues with that, especially when she’s in her “after a breakup/new relationship” phase. 

    Riffing on Clementine Kruczynski’s (Kate Winslet) look, Grande sits in the waiting room of Brighter Days Inc.—an air of uncertainty about her—styled in a fur-trim coat, tights with knee-high boots (featuring a 70s-esque flower pattern) and a flower flourish drawn in white around her eye. This particular detail gives more Katy Perry than Clementine vibes (especially in the former’s hippie-dippy “Never Really Over” video), but it’s part of Grande’s own spin on the character. Which now also incorporates some version of herself thanks to her recent experience of wanting to erase the memory of a botched relationship. Namely, the one that resulted in her two-year marriage to Dalton Gomez. Hence, like Joel Barish (Jim Carrey, who Grande is a well-known fan of), we see Grande-as-“Peaches” (a none too subtle allusion to Clementine) filling out a form that basically denies Brighter Days Inc. any legal responsibility for what might happen after the procedure—including a lingering and barely dormant sense of regret. 

    So it is that we see “Peaches” checking the “Yes” box under the statement, “You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give Brighter Days Inc. the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.” Clementine herself, of course, didn’t give much extensive thought to it, later telling Joel, “You know me, I’m impulsive.” Peaches is likely the same way, simply wanting to rid herself of the pain that comes from remembering a failed relationship. Thus, despite seeing the anxiousness radiating from her as she resolves to go through with the decision, Peaches knows that it’s “for the best.” 

    Watching the “technicians” remove key mementos of the relationship from the box she brought in (the same way the patients in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind do), viewers soon see the wall of the “operating room” open up behind her (kind of the way the wall opens up behind Miley Cyrus in the “Used To Be Young” video) to reveal the first memory to be scraped. The one that relates to the tiny teddy bear in the box. A bear plucked from what the Brits (and Arctic Monkeys) call a teddy picker by Grande’s ex, played by Evan Peters…who is labeled simply as “Lover” where credited (how Swiftian). The memory then starts to black-out around her (the same way it does for Joel just as he’s remembering all the “good stuff” he loved about being with Clementine). Startled by the abyssal nature of the process, this is the moment where the lyrics, “Me and my truth, we sit in silence/Mmm, baby girl it’s just me and you.” And as the very “Dancing On My Own” by Robyn beat swells again, the blackness around her is replaced by another memory, one in which Lover’s back is turned to her in bed. While she sits up in the place next to him, it’s as though the two are at the point in their relationship where things have become strained, and words have lost all meaning. 

    From this memory, Grande runs out to open the door, leading her into a snow-filled landscape where “Brighter Days” of them making snow angels together exist. This being Grande’s version of Joel and Clementine lying on the ice of the frozen-over Charles River (though, in actuality, that scene was filmed in Yorktown Heights). A “cut” is then made by way of a sheet falling over the scene to transition us from Peaches lying on the snow to Peaches lying in bed with Lover (side note: the sheets’ pattern gives off a decidedly “hospital bed” feel—maybe an unwitting allusion to how love makes you crazy). And in the same way that Clementine is literally yanked away from Joel while they’re lying on the ice together, so, too, is Lover while he and Peaches are looking at each other with the same loving fondness in bed. 

    In the next scene, Breslauer cuts to the memory box again, as a technician picks up a framed photo of the two arranged in “Samantha Baker (Molly Ringwald) and Jake Ryan (Michael Schoeffling) pose” with a cake between them, exactly as it was in John Hughes’ Sixteen Candles. It is at this moment that viewers might realize Grande is incapable of sticking to just one movie as a visual reference point (even with “34+35,” she couldn’t “only” refer to Austin Powers with her fembot aesthetic….there had to be a Frankenstein premise as well)—something we saw at a peak in “thank u, next.” A video that, although it wields Mean Girls as its primary inspiration, also sees fit to devolve into nods to Bring It On, Legally Blonde and 13 Going on 30. 

    While it’s unclear if Lover is doing this Sixteen Candles homage deliberately because he knows how much Peaches adores the movie or it’s simply another instance of Grande incorporating a pop culture reference apropos of nothing (which is understandable, as many women and gay men’s minds function that way), the point is that Lover disappears from the picture just as they lean into kiss one another over the birthday candles (something that was just as stressful to watch in Sixteen Candles for those fearing a fire hazard). Sitting there alone as the lyric, “So for now, it’s only me/And maybe that’s all I need” plays, Grande blows out the candles before we see the map of her brain again. In the style of Joel freaking out when the “eraser guys” manage to find Clementine hidden within a memory of his childhood (a suggestion made by Clementine so that he could hold onto her in some way even after the process), Grande starts panicking and crying before the computer flashes a sign that reads, “Relinking.” 

    In another memory still, we see Grande on the couch with Lover as he presents her with a necklace that then turns into a dog collar before Lover himself is transformed into a dog (for, as Birds of Prey taught us, dogs are the animals women are most likely to replace men with). This is where Grande takes the most liberties with her reinterpretation of the movie, for it seems that Brighter Days Inc. isn’t just capable of erasing memories, but also reworking them entirely. As such, the interior decor around her continues to, let’s say, shapeshift, while the TV in front of her plays back the memories one last time before we see Peaches shaking hands with the doctor and nurse for doing their job, the procedure now over. 

    The image of the box of memories, teddy bear and all, being incinerated then leads into Peaches walking down a street with a new boyfriend and passing Lover with his new girlfriend, neither party registering any kind of recognition. And just like that, Peaches forgets all about her pain. Just as viewers might forget all about the original Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. But that’s what pastiche is about: subverting collective memories for the sake of consumption.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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