Backup Dancers From Hell: One Republic - “Good Life”

We start out with shots of some drab place out in the country, maybe an old farm, with rotting fences and a whole bunch of nothing. Quick glimpse of lead singer Ryan Tedder rudely looking away from us and playing an imaginary drum set while gazing at overgrown, abandoned fields where still nothing is going on, although at one time I’m sure these fields were witness to banjo-playing and hillbillies with little regard for the family tree of their sex partners.

Ryan discovers a section of fence and seems to find it fascinating. This is all innocent and fun at first, but as the video plays out, we keep seeing him near that fence, and we begin to question his motives.

The other band members start joining in, playing their instruments and such. Ryan says a short prayer, pats on his belly and chest a bit, because he’s got the music in him, and then he starts to whistle, his facial expression that of an angelic choirboy. This is a lie, of course, because you can’t be in a successful band in this country and still be capable of both purity and whistling.

Hold up, something’s going on. The camera pulls back a little bit, and we can see that someone is holding up a board with the video of the band playing on it. Oh, so we’re going with technical gimmickry here. That’s nice, because I was already a little tired of Ryan playing a Jewish Cowboy in Amish country. Then the person holding the board changes, to a woman with magenta hair who seems intent on chewing the upper right corner of the board. She’s probably evil. Or at least hungry.

And that’s our theme for a while, with a variety of people and backgrounds holding up this board so we can watch the band jam over yonder in the leftover set from Places in the Heart. Then the camera zooms back in so the band scenes fill the screen again, and we watch while Ryan poses near fences and tree stumps while wailing the song, never once losing his odd hat or the firm belief that we actually want to look at that hat.

And here come the hands once more, with the Holding People changing at a quicker pace. This, of course, causes us to pay more attention to the outer rim and the flashing colors than the actual band, so I’m not sure this was a well-thought-out artistic decision. (I do catch enough of the main action to realize that Ryan has a fondness for standing on the edge of a broken bridge that leads nowhere. I’m sure he can get a song out of the experience.)

Full-screen jam scenes again, with the band now camped-out in the middle of a dirt road. They seem to be having a good time and feel safe, but I’m here to tell ya, having been raised in the country, some 15-year-old hopped up on homemade hooch is going to come barreling along that dirt road sooner or later, swerving recklessly in a windowless pickup, and will not see your asses until it’s too late. Word.

And we’re back to people holding the board, only now they are passing it around to one another in a twisted version of Hot Potato. Just when I’m thinking we really need to move on from that concept, they switch to three separate people holding three separate boards at the same time. This totally changes everything and I am on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what they do next.

But then they go back to just one holder at a time, and I am emotionally devastated. They start letting us see more of the Holding People, zooming in and out, with some of the actors taking desperate measures to appear totally charming and possibly land a TV series. (Hey, it takes less effort than that to get on some shows, like Dancing with the Stars and Fox News.)

We go back to full-screen and now the band is walking single-file through the fields, with most of them looking off to the right, possibly in fear. (See? I told you that pickup would show up sooner or later, with them getting forced off the road in a dusty whirl of rusted metal and manure fertilizer, having to leave their instruments behind for the locals to pick up and use in some ongoing feud about bovine ownership and grazing rights.)

And here we go again with the Holding People, and they’ve added some shots where four holders appear at the same time, but the luster on this technical extravaganza is quickly fading. It would be fine if Ryan and the gang were actually doing something inspiring in those fields, but how many times can Ryan walk by that same stretch of broke-down fence and that one guy who looks like he stole Bob Dylan’s hair?

I pick up the phone, intent on calling the video producers and suggesting an alternate take (Godzilla suddenly shows up in the field, or maybe one of the Holders takes the board hostage and refuses to give it back unless cherry limeades arrive as ransom, something like that), but they refuse to immediately take my call and I am placed on hold.

Meanwhile, the video plays on, with more of the same. They do seem to be spending a little more time on giving the Holders some character (hey, is that Joan Jett lying on that green lawn, and Hugo from Lost posing as a homeless biker?), which gives us a little variety, but they’re all just holding this damn board. I never thought I would say this, but I’m actually ready for a totally unnecessary line dance.

Wait, the band is back on that dirt road, so I guess they didn’t learn anything from the backwoods hit-and-run. Ryan is holding a tambourine during this part, and making odd hand gestures that possibly indicate he has lost a contact lens. This is interrupted by a Holder with such vibrantly-orange nail polish that I actually feel my corneas melting.

And basically, that’s how the rest of the video goes. People hold things, Ryan keeps showing up on that bridge to nowhere, and shots of the instrument-less band doing the single-file marching thing like The Brady Bunch headed toward that cave with the idol and the annoying revelation that Bobby and Cindy live to be in the next episode.

We go to full-screen for the final image, with Ryan whistling and then wandering along next to his new love, the voiceless but apparently highly-alluring stretch of rotting fence. It’s nice that he’s found someone, but does he really understand the splinter angle?


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Backup Dancers From Hell: The All-American Rejects - “Move Along”

We start out with the lead singer, Tyson, fully-clothed and falling backwards off a diving board into a swimming pool. The assumption is going to be that he’s had a very bad day. Or maybe he just misunderstood some directional advice. These things happen when you don’t pay attention in class, boys and girls.

But before Tyson splashes down, we cut to him standing in an office, facing the camera while possibly being berated by the man behind him. Something about declining sales. We really don’t care. Then Tyson is dressed as a doctor, still facing the camera, followed by a shot of a medical bracelet on an arm with the name “Kim” written in strange lettering. No idea what’s going on, but I’m not caring for the intense look on Tyson’s face. It’s a bit manic and creepy.

Now Tyson’s at the dinner table, eating something that is unidentifiable but very colorful. We’re looking at him through a big-ass wineglass that’s in the way. (The potential for alcohol has been the most promising thing in this video so far.) Brief shot of a ring on a finger, then some girl is clutching Tyson’s shoulder and staring at him as if he’s just said something that will soon lead to an altercation. At this point, nobody in this video is very happy. Or making any sense.

Back to the dining table, where Tyson finally starts belting out the song. He seems to be singing to or about someone that is not sitting in the chair across from him. Back to the office, where that dude is still yelling, another ring shot, more of the displeased girl on Tyson’s shoulder (she walks away this time, so he’s really done it now), and another gander at Tyson in the doctor outfit and the mysterious “Kim” who may or may not be breathing.

Then all the sudden, BAM, we start getting hundreds of rapid-fire shots of Tyson wearing different couture, but his somewhat-fierce face stays in the same place, with the same expression, in every shot. It’s very intense. And still with the creepy. These flickering images go on for long enough that you’re just on the verge of losing your place in the space-time continuum, and then it stops. We get about three seconds to breathe, and then here we go again. If this keeps up I might need physical therapy and some nice sedatives.

And we stop again, long enough for Dining-Table Tyson to use some menacingly-sharp cutlery to attack whatever that is on his plate. Shot of a headless doctor patting at his heart, followed by a small girl looking tragic and forlorn while her mother apparently spies something across the room that is more interesting than her daughter’s grief. More whizzing around with the frenetic costume changes and that intense expression that Tyson insists on maintaining.

We stop at a football game, with Tyson in uniform, and we learn that handsome, blond men are the enemy, and that they are beating us really bad in the football game. Cut to a car smashed into a light pole, and a disgruntled police officer writing a ticket, because apparently you’re not supposed to use public utility devices to stop your car. Wait, is Tyson now in jail? If so, why does it look like there’s an infertility clinic behind him? Doesn’t matter, the costume changes are ramping up again, and I have to say that Tyson must have a very extensive wardrobe. At least in the shirt department. No word on trousers and such.

The wild ride slows down again, and we see somebody smashing a car window with a crow bar, and then a close-up of somebody who is either guilty of the automotive violence or has just heard some startling test results. We jump around some more, and then somebody else is taking off his hat to show us that perhaps his hair stylist is not the best in the world. (The people behind him seem to be drinking moonshine out of jugs, causing them to put on silly headgear and think it looks cool.)

And more jump cutting. Some tough guy punches at the camera, Tyson changes his clothes 47 more times, Tyson fiddles with a water hose as a euphemism for whatever you would like to imagine, and a quick shot of Tyson lying on the ground with a broken flower pot near his head. Things finally slow down, and we see Tyson on the diving board again, slowly falling away from us. (They even throw in an aerial shot so we can confirm that, yep, bitch is fallin’ into the water.)

Cut to a side view that shows hundreds of hands rising out of the now-empty pool to catch Tyson. (This is by far the coolest part of the video. Just sayin.) Tyson is so appreciative of the mass suicide-intervention that he decides to perform an impromptu concert at the bottom of the pool. He sits down at a handy piano so he can sing the slow part of the song along with all his new friends. As has been deemed necessary by some higher power, all his fans slowly wave their hands in the air in a moving tribute to group yoga and inner peace.

Then we’re back to the loud part of the song, and Tyson runs to his mike stand and starts to wail again, with that intensity thing. In fact, the entire band is going after their roles with a vehemence that gives one pause. Why are these people so dramatic with their musicality? Do they need to change their diet?

The band plays for a while, with the circling audience doing that bounce-dance thing that has been popular for a while but is still mystifying when it comes to the enjoyability factor. Why can’t they just stand there and wave an old-school lighter? Then we’re back to the rapid-fire wardrobe changes, and I’m too tired to even keep up now. Suffice it to say that Tyson spends a lot of money on t-shirts with slogans.

As the song winds down, we pull away from the pool, watch a few more flickering outfits, learn that girlfriend is back in town because she gets to sing a few lines and I’m thankful that she didn’t bring any extra clothes with her, there’s a shout-out to the other band members, and we end with Tyson smirking at us whilst wearing a final t-shirt with the Madonna on it. The religious figure, not the one who pissed off Pepsi but still went on to dominate the entertainment world…


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Backup Dancers From Hell: Keyshia Cole featuring Nicki Minaj - “I Ain’t Thru”

We start off flying over the downtown of some city, while Keyshia is already wailing away about something that’s troubling her. (Quick glimpse of Nicki Minaj, because if that girl is going to be in your video, she fully expects some major screen time.) Cut to Keyshia strutting around on top of a skyscraper. (At least I think it’s her. There’s a tremendous amount of hair and hair product fighting for the camera’s attention.)

Keyshia waves her hips in just the right manner to cause a fancy car to start driving around on the streets below. It’s a nice car from the looks of it, but I don’t know cars, so it could be anything. We also seem to be having an issue with fog blowing across the set. This might be intentional, but it might be the result of some assistant not bothering to check the weather channel.

Oh look, now we have shots of some trampy girl with an attitude prancing down a street. I’m not sure who it is, it might be Keyshia, minus all the rooftop hair, but I’m not sure. Whoever she is, she might be a little warm, because she rips off her couture dead-animal coat and tosses it to the side so some homeless person can think he found Jesus. Then Coatless Girl starts busting some moves to show how hawt she be.

Meanwhile, Keyshia is doing a dance routine in what might be a club or just the “Young and Hip” department at Macy’s, and that fancy car is still driving the streets, searching for some Fly Girls to hop inside and get the party started. I guess the car will have to wait a bit, because Rooftop Keyshia, Unknown Street Walker, and Dance Club Keyshia are still busy finishing up dance steps that somebody got paid to teach them. (Interestingly enough, all this choreography seems to center around the ability to thrust your pelvis whilst looking around to see who is watching you thrust your pelvis.)

Okay, back to the fancy car, with Keyshia now driving and one of Nicki’s personalities in the passenger seat. Oh wait, now they’re in the dance club, with Keyshia battling to dominate the scene while yet another Nicki personality is doing something to highlight her amazingly straight hair. Quick shot of Unknown Street Walker having some type of issue with her hair on that skanky street she’s walking down because she didn’t pay attention to when Keyshia was picking her up in the fancy car.

Okay, now Nicki is rapping in the Dance Club, wearing an outfit that can only be described as “RuPaul ain’t ever gonna wear that, sister, so why you frontin’?” (Seriously, what’s up with the window valance as a mini-skirt?) Nicki isn’t bothered a bit, doing her creepy Animatronic Girl routine where she does robot moves and widens her eyes like she just got an enema when she least expected it.

Back to the car, where Keyshia and Nicki are possibly rapping but might just be suffering really bad gas bubbles from those questionable tacos from “Shorty’s Fold and Stuff”. (To be fair, Keyshia is only adding a few vocal “uh huh’s” to the mess, so this is really Nicki in 4th gear with no emergency brake.) Nicki sure likes saying words like “duck” and “roof”. This probably means something. But not to me.

Now the fancy car is barreling through a tunnel, which inspires Keyshia and Nicki to flash the Peace Sign. (Okay, I know that gesture is supposed to mean “deuce” in the modern world, but really, it originally meant “peace”. And I like that a lot better than promoting a playing card.) Back to the roof, with Keyshia tromping around in that black raincoat and doing high-kicks while menacing fog billows about and threatens to suck her into a John Carpenter movie.

Now we’re in the dance club, where we learn that Belvedere vodka can act like a Roman candle if you just let it breathe. Keyshia and Nicki think this is a really plush development, so they wiggle around on the lounge seats and act slightly horny about the fireworks shooting out of the liquor bottle. In fact, they are so inspired by the sight of something spewing that they take to the dance floor, and strike some killer moves that accentuate all of their couture accessories.

Additionally, this Tribute to the Belvedere Spewing includes some business with needing “elbow room” and the freedom to possibly pursue girl-on-girl touching while the beat pulsates. That’s some really high-quality vodka. Everybody in the club seems to understand the importance of the right to bare arms, and whatever other body parts need emancipation, and there’s a rousing display of unbridled lust and patriotism.

Now we start jump-cutting around, with Rooftop Keyshia trying to do the diva thing on top of the building, hands out-stretched to indicate that she really believes in her vocals, Streetwalker Whoever kicking it into high gear as she and her spandex flail about like she just got her tax refund, Dance Club Keyshia making it very clear that there is no parking on HER dance floor, and Nicki trying to remember which personality she is supposed to be at this particular moment. I’m going to guess it’s the one who would straddle something that isn’t really hers but pretends like it is.

And that’s pretty much how we end the video. Everybody’s having a really great time doing pointless things that wouldn’t be so exciting if Mt. Saint Belvedere hadn’t erupted just when it did. Keyshia loves her red jacket and the fact that she has a belly button, Streetwalker couldn’t be more pleased with the opportunity to sashay through the trashy streets of Manhattan, and Nicki has figured out at least 20 new robotic moves that should ensure she gets to guest rap on at least 10 more hit singles…



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Backup Dancers From Hell: Faith Hill - “Breathe”

We start out with some nice nature shots of the Serengeti Desert, or some place where things seem to be a bit dusty and the Earth and sky have a lovely sepia tone with neutral colors that a savvy realtor would suggest you use on the walls of your dining room to get a better return on your investment. Then Faith proves that she is an eternal spirit of some kind by rising out of a picturesque lake and waving her hands about like one of the lesser deities in a Hindu poem.

Next we have Faith wearing what I think they call a “sheath dress”, which means that she’s basically wrapped her ass in a silk sheet and then turned to the camera. She’s doing some interesting hand gestures to imply that she has achieved self-acceptance and a love of windswept places where she is the only person on the horizon.

Oh wait, now we’re seeing Faith in some bed, with the silk theme continuing in the form of bed sheets that she’s wallering around in as presumably someone somewhere else in the house is making her coffee. As the camera caresses her toned body on this bed, we learn that Faith has enough hair that set designers can spread it out all over the pillow like something that might be mistaken for a Venus Flytrap in darker lighting. This is the first point where I realize that Faith really doesn’t like to look directly at the camera when she’s singing. What’s up with that?

Now we’ve got Faith back in the desert, and she’s swaddled in a gauzy red contraption like ancient Druids might have asked her to wear during an important ceremony. Oh wait, maybe we weren’t supposed to see that yet, because we quickly cut to Faith doing some type of hand yoga. I think maybe Faith is more invested in this hand activity than we are. And then we’re back in the silk-sheeted bed, and it might just be me, but I’m thinking Faith is a wee bit more horny than anyone planned for on this shoot.

Quick shot of Sheath-Dress Faith, and then we’re back to the Horny Bed with Faith almost showing us France. More Sheath-Dress, and now we can see that the back of this couture is weirdly designed and yet still sensual, and it’s fairly clear that Faith liberated her bra at some point. And more of Faith in that bed, where it appears to be very difficult for her to keep her legs still. I guess the designer sheets do much more for her than the average naked woman on a video shoot.

And we’ve got Sheath-Dress Faith doing more yoga out in the desert, assuming a difficult pose that I can only describe as Twirling Dog Discovers Tail. Suddenly, it gets very dramatic in that desert, with Faith raising her arms to welcome interplanetary spacecraft as they invade the planet. Perhaps Faith left out a few details in her official biography.

We get more shots of Sheath Faith strutting about, letting us know that she practiced walking around in this dress a lot. Brief bit of Faith playing with her hair, then we’re back in the bed where Faith is on the verge of personal satisfaction, and more images of Gauzy Faith tromping through more of the desert.

Now Bed Faith is sitting up, and you know there were personal stylists tripping over each other to make sure we don’t see the naughty bits. Faith doesn’t care, tugging on the sheets in a teasing way, and flopping around in a manner to indicate somebody hasn’t been giving Momma enough attention.

Back to the desert so one of the Faiths can dance in the middle of a crop circle, another facial shot of Faith, and then Bed Faith is thrusting her breasts in the air in a moment of absolute silken bliss. (Did they really show this thing on Country Music television? Because this girl has needs.)

Now we start seriously jump-cutting around among the various Faiths, with the central theme of this segment being that Faith really doesn’t know what to do with those breasts of hers. She tries dancing, and more yoga, and some business where she clutches at her hair whilst on that sex bed, but nothing is bringing her any true satisfaction. Poor thing.

And it’s starting to get late, as the sun sets on the two Faiths that like prancing around in the desert, and we have a new Faith that is wearing what might be a wedding dress. Faith really seems to like this new outfit, twirling and waving her arms like there’s a prize if she can convince Air Force One to land nearby. But then Faith changes her mind about assisting landing aircraft, and she starts pawing at her hair like she has so many itches that she doesn’t know where to begin scratching.

We get some more close-ups of Faith, and she’s still doing that annoying thing where she looks away from the camera, possibly making sure that Tim McGraw isn’t eyeing the Craft Services girl. She seems kind of mad during this bit, so I’m going to guess that she spied Tim asking for way more sushi than he really needs.

We wind it up with Wedding Dress Faith doing something that requires her to squat in the desert while the sun sets, another close-up of Faith Who Doesn’t Like To Look At The Camera, and a final ballet of Faith hand movements indicating that the interplanetary spacecraft should return to orbit. Because the human race is not ready for forced domination by a woman with unsatisfied bedroom needs…



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Backup Dancers From Hell: Third Eye Blind - “Semi-Charmed Life”

We start off, briefly, in outer space, then we zoom all the way down to an American flag on somebody’s motorcycle jacket sleeve. It was probably important to somebody that we start out that way, but I didn’t learn anything from it. Then we have lots of people riding motorcycles down part of a road where “STOP” is clearly painted on the pavement. I’m guessing these people are not interested in being told what to do.

Then we’re traveling in a car with what might be the band members and a dog, but no one is wearing a name tag so it could be anybody. They seem to be going somewhere industrial, but it’s not really clear because the video producers thought it would be fun to shoot things with a shaky camera. At some point the lead singer, Stephen, must have fallen out of the car because he’s suddenly walking down the street all by himself.

So he starts singing the song and almost immediately runs into the side of a building. It doesn’t look like that was planned, but Stephen is a trooper and keeps going. Meanwhile, those people on the motorcycles are zipping all over town, and they’re already starting to get a little annoying. They need to get wherever they’re going and stay there. This is followed by a few shots of some geeky guy that most likely has dating issues.

Then we’re back in the car for a little bit, still driving toward who knows, and then cut to a venue where the band is playing. They seem very happy to be doing so, which is nice, and their happiness probably has something to do with the fact the Jesus is one of the guitar players. Nothing puts a smile on your face like Divinity in a jam session.

Everybody bops for a little bit, then we’ve got more of those damn motorcycles racing about. I’m not claiming to be a skilled motorcyclist, but I’m not sure these folks need to be in control of moving vehicles. We seem to be having difficulty with things like staying on the road and not running over people.

Cut to Stephen outside some produce market or some such, with lots of people pretending to not look at the camera as they mill about, waiting for something to happen. This batch of people doesn’t appear to be very happy, so they might be waiting for trials to start where they’ve been accused of involvement in unsavory activities. Stephen doesn’t care and just keeps singing. Then he starts walking down the street and interrupts some kissing lesbians. But instead of yelling at him, they yell at each other, so I don’t think that relationship is going anywhere.

And once more with the jam session at the unknown venue, where Jesus is just alright with them, then we have Stephen hopping excitedly down a sidewalk. Then he’s suddenly running very fast, so he must have done something very bad and has decided that he doesn’t want to be associated with the mischief. He runs for a very long time, to the point where we really don’t care what he did, we just want him to settle down.

Oh look, he’s stopped running and is just sitting on the sidewalk, then he suddenly gets very hyper and snarls at us. Then he does some more of that aimless bouncing around. (Does this burst of energy have anything to do with the “crystal meth” phrase that the censors distorted in the radio single? Just wondering.) Speaking of the radio version, this video apparently isn’t, because now Stephen is bellowing some lyrics that I’ve never heard before. So either Stephen is just making crap up on the fly or this is another example of the world not being what we think it is.

Okay, we’re finally back in familiar territory with words that I know, and here come those motorcycles again. (God!) Some of them even start driving around in a large circle, as if they know I’m having an issue with them and they are pushing it as far as they can. It looks like Stephen is standing in the middle of the circle, so we might actually be witnessing a cult celebration of some kind. As if to confirm this, a woman with really odd sunglasses briefly flashes on screen.

Now we have the motorcycle people just sitting around on their colorful rigs and comparing leather accessories. Then they all jump back on their scooters and start with the crazy-ass driving again. Cut to the band at that venue, where it appears that the folks in the very small audience have been hitting the eggnog a little too hard. Lots of pointless, uncontrolled dancing, some twirling, and stumbling, unisex-attired people are banging into each other and clutching at their heads. (Good thing Jesus is on hand in case something really bad happens that requires an impromptu confession.)

And that’s how we wind down, with shiny, happy people expressing rhythmic joy as the band finishes the song. Final scene is of a woman with cropped hair watching a moon landing on TV and appearing stunned that the flag being planted is the same as on that biker jacket that started this whole thing. She must not get out much…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Carrie Underwood - “Before He Cheats”

We start off right away seeing the Carrie-inflicted damage to that “4-wheel drive”, with paint being keyed and headlights being smashed. No messing around here. This is intercut with Carrie on stage somewhere, she and her billowing hair preparing to sing the song. We get a quick image via a side-view mirror of Carrie carrying a baseball bat and sporting a jeans and leather outfit that is smokin’, so I’m already loving this video.

Carrie starts singing, and it’s clear that we’ve got some wind fans kicked into overdrive. Although the golden tresses look fab in this manufactured atmospheric disturbance, I’m concerned that Carrie might be blown off the stage and slammed into one of the roadie wagons. She only weighs about 3 pounds, so it could really happen, and some people won’t be happy about that.

Cut to shots of The Man Who Done Her Wrong smooching on the floozy who started all this mess, and although we can’t really see her face with his tongue in the way, she bears a striking resemblance to Kellie Pickler. I don’t know if this was intentional, or just one of those random things that happen in country music videos when the wrong people have access to beer and casting decisions.

Now we have Carrie wearing designer shades and a black leather jacket (have I mentioned smokin’ hot?), walking out of a parking garage with that infamous bat. She’s apparently marching toward Dumbass and Slutgirl, but before she gets there we cut back to Carrie on that stage kicking into overdrive with her revenge lyrics, followed by more images of vehicular manslaughter. Then we see Leather-Jacket Carrie toss the bat into a gutter, indicating that she don’t need no weapon to deal with that Cheatin’ Loser she lookin’ for.

Carrie is sashaying down some street where there are lots of clubs and women who haven’t seen their natural hair color since Reagan was in office. At first, Carrie is bothered by this crush of unknown people with pointless lives, but eventually she gets a little aggressive and starts shoving people out of the way. (Don’t mess with me, people. I had to deal with Simon Cowell AND Randy Jackson with his dogg thing. Get bent.)

More shots of Bad Boy and Bad Girl sucking face, as well as some nice neon signs for the local bars. Carrie’s still searching for the inevitable confrontation, so she has to throw a few more people out of the way. She’s about to stumble across them, but first we have to cut back to Carrie on stage, so she can belt some more of the song. We also seem to be having some sparks flying from somewhere. Not sure what that’s all about.

Oh good, we finally get to Carrie encountering Nasty Boy and Trampy Girl. She takes his car keys and dumps them into his drink, then marches away in a sexy but defiant manner. It’s very triumphant. But then things get a little weird.

All the sudden, Carrie is walking down the middle of a vacant downtown street. Sparks are flying off the surrounding buildings, and Carrie is doing some kind of shimmy waltz while a severe wind blows her hair back. Next thing you know, glass windows are exploding and shards are flying everywhere. It’s like Halle Berry got really pissed in one of the “X-Men” movies. Carrie is even making a snarling face, which is something that I would recommend that she never do again.

The song winds down with Carrie still in the middle of that street, the wind whip-tailing her hair and the ginormous earrings that some stylist picked out, unaware that Carrie was about to be subjected to a scene you would normally only see on the Nature Channel, on a show called “Heaving Winds of Death” or “Calamity on the Prairie”. But Carrie doesn’t care. She wiggles her hips in total domination, satisfied that she’s destroyed the most important thing in her ex-boyfriend’s life, and then does a dramatic profile shot that would make Jennifer Lopez proud…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Plain White T’s - “Hey There Delilah”

Okay, folks, this one’s a toughie, because of the way the video was put together and the limited images that you can see. But hey, let’s give it a run and see what happens…

Right away they start off with this multi-screen effect, showing different things going on all at one time. This is fun to watch at first, because it’s busy and interesting, but you soon realize that there’s no actual story, just some themed imagery. There are basically just two things going on: Tom is sitting in an apartment playing his guitar, and Delilah is running around in another city in search of the rest of her skirt.

Since playing a guitar while sitting in a chair is all that Tom does, we can basically wrap up his story thread right here. He sits, plays, and sings. The end. Besides, although the song is pretty and everything, you can only get so much video footage out of somebody fingering their instrument. Things are a little slow, especially since the song is borderline emo and that’s a dangerous line to walk. You need some pep for a great video.

And that’s where Delilah comes in. This girl is busy, rarely staying still for longer than 1.3 seconds. She would never be happy in a quiet, acoustic apartment where not much is happening. This is probably why she chose to stay on the other side of the country until Tom gets it together. That “going to school” business is just a sham. Delilah’s a party girl. And this is her story.

Delilah starts off by wearing leg warmers with high heels, so you know she’s on the quirky side. She appears to be waiting for a subway, but she might just be there for the excellent selection in the vending machines. She also wears lipstick that accents the puffy trim on her hood, so she’s stylish as well.

Now she’s running up some stairs to another subway station. I don’t know if she realized she was at the wrong one, or if we were watching Tom’s fingers when she caught the first connection. Anyway, she steps out on this new platform, and this is where her skirt really makes its debut. Or perhaps I should say “lack of skirt”. I mean, it’s not super tawdry, like someone would barely wear in a Whitesnake video, but still, ain’t much there.

I guess the train is running late, because Delilah first appears restless, then starts walking around the platform, going faster and faster as if there are growing bladder issues or she’s fresh from a wax job. Next thing we know, she’s walking along a street, letting us see she owns one of those purses with the really short straps. (I’ve never understood those things, the way your purse is jammed into your armpit. Aside from potential moisture stains on expensive leather, how is that comfortable?) Delilah doesn’t care, and she and her restrictive purse continue waltzing up the street.

She crosses at an intersection, allowing her hood to flop down so we can get a gander at her ponytail, letting us know that she’s very sensible and doesn’t waste money and effort on hair products. Good for her. Then she gets to the other side of the street and pops the hood back on. She must be walking past the Vogue building and isn’t feeling quite as liberated about her coiffure.

Okay, Delilah has magically transitioned to some place where there’s lots of graffiti on the walls. There seems to be a mirror in all that mess, because Dee is staring into it and applying some cosmetics. This might be her own bathroom, and it looks this way because she ran out of Post-It notes, but I’m going to venture it’s a public restroom in one of those trendy places where you can substitute tofu for anything on the menu. Even the tofu.

It takes Delilah quite a while to apply, looking a little garish, so either she’s got an important meeting with a client who happens to be a pimp, or she’s a wee bit self-centered. After all, she’s supposed to be saving herself for the man across the country who is writing a hit song about her. She really shouldn’t be spending this much time dressing up the goods. But I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while. Maybe “relationship” these days means “I’ll sleep with you when you’re in town”.

Um, she’s still putting on that makeup. Geez.

Okay, now we’re back at the subway. Is this girl ever going to get where she needs to go? Poor thing. Oh look, she’s actually getting on one of the cars, so at least she’s made progress. Wait, now she’s back on the street, in a provocative pose concerning that questionable miniskirt. Then she’s back at a subway station with her leg warmers. Delilah, honey, stay in one place long enough for me to finish a paragraph.

Dee’s on the move again, back on a street, looking as if she’s contemplating taking a cab. I would strongly suggest that, Delilah. It’s becoming very clear that the workings of the subway system might be just a tad out of your grasp. Get into one of those nice, warm cars and let someone else figure out your destination. And remember to cross your legs.

Nope, she passes up the taxi and decides to run across some streets without looking either way. Then she’s walking on another street looking sad. This might be because the hot dog vendor behind her is out of sauerkraut. Then she’s walking by some benches, but doesn’t stop to rest, even though it’s obvious by now that she’s never going to get where she’s going.

Back at Tom’s, he finally ends the song and just stares at the floor, contemplating. Yeah, I hear ya, Tom. We just watched the video, too. Are you sure that Delilah’s really the one? Because there are lots of other girls out there with three syllables in their name, so it wouldn’t be too hard to re-record the song….

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Maroon 5 - “Wake Up Call”

We start out with Adam and some woman with far too much makeup sitting in a car somewhere. Her fake eyelashes alone are so startling that it’s hard to follow the dialogue, but the main gist is that Makeup lied to Adam a bunch of times about something. When Makeup tries to explain, Adam interrupts by saying “it was probably my fault anyway”.

Dude, lying aside, do you even know what this woman looks like in real life. I haven’t seen that much pancake since I ordered the Fresh N Fruity at IHOP.

Cut to the band performing in a water runoff channel, possibly because the acoustics are just right. While Adam sings, the opening credits for this mini-film start flashing. Quick shot of Makeup practicing for a Victoria’s Secret gig in some hallway, then we have a gander at some obvious hookers standing near a building. Some person that we can’t see uses binoculars to focus on the hooker booties. That’s nice.

Next we have Adam and Makeup bumping uglies during apparently happier, non-lying times, then shots of the band, shots of another hooker, and shots of somebody with a trench coat running through water. (Who knows.) Suddenly, we see Makeup in bed with another man (the horror!) and Adam kicks the door in to catch them in the act. (He couldn’t just turn the knob?) There’s a confrontational scuffle, leading to Adam pulling out a gun and shooting Makeup’s new friend. Okay, then.

Now we’re on a roof with one of the other band members, James, and absolutely nothing happens before we cut back to Adam’s apartment where he’s dragging New Stud down the same hallway where Makeup was practicing just a few moments earlier. Then, out of nowhere, we see a stripper swinging on a pole. Seriously. Back to that roof, where some woman who never met a bottle of peroxide that she didn’t like exchanges carry-on luggage with James.

Shots of somebody running across another roof. No idea. And now it starts to really get crazy. Quick shot of supermodels bound-up on a boat, some other people tied up in the back of some vehicle, an extremely breasty woman doing something with a flag, somebody slamming a tailgate shut, Adam turning over a dining table while Makeup wears panties, another shot of the boat supermodels touching each other seductively, and yet another hooker smashing a bottle over someone’s head.

Still with me? There’s more.

More of the woman who loves her some stripper pole, suspicious people meeting in an alley, Adam and Makeup running down another alley, Adam shoving Stud Boy into a body bag (who keeps that kind of thing around the house?), one of the band members being chased by Cujo, Adam smashing a bathroom mirror with a baseball bat (because that accomplishes a lot), and multiple people getting their mug shots taken. Is there anybody nice in this video?

Cut to Adam and Makeup on some building, bridge, something high, throwing Stud Boy over the side while a security camera catches everything. Back to the parked car where this whole mess started, with Adam and Makeup still talking. We see that somebody (probably Adam, because he just has that sneaky look, but maybe not) is recording their conversation. Then I guess he and Makeup make up, because they get out of the car and hold hands while walking away. And the car blows up behind them.

What in gay hell?

We see that the breasty woman still has her flag, there’s a helicopter flying around where the boys are performing, Adam is driving another car really fast, the lesbian subplot on that boat is still developing, we still have random hookers, some of whom are fondling somebody in a dark bar, disembodied lips flashing across the screen, somebody checking their watch, people still tied up in the back of a car, and more mug shots. I don’t know who’s guilty of what any more, and I’m starting to not care. Perhaps another beer will help the situation.

And the video winds down with more flashing images. Police women with cleavage bouncing their way down yet another alley, people on rooftops, the lesbian cruise, airplanes, Adam being captured and interrogated by Playboy Bunnies, fingerprinting, that stripper who won’t stop twirling, something burning, the cast of “Burlesque” making a cameo, slobbering dogs, and the band still performing in that place where John Travolta raced for pink slips back in the day.

Final shot is of Adam in jail. Based on his friends and the cavalcade of women marching around with lethal weapons on their chests, this is probably the safest place for him to be…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Adam Lambert - “For Your Entertainment”

We start off with a quick shot of some boring traffic driving through an intersection, then the camera pans downward, taking us underground to some fancy place where Adam and the Lambertinis are doing their thing. First off, Adam and his mystical walking stick are marching down a gloomy hallway in slo-mo, with extras from “Buffy” walking behind him. They all sashay through a curtain into a club, with Adam waving that damn stick around.

While he belts out the song, we get glimpses of other people at the club, and the general theme is sophisticated trashiness. People are caressing wooden furniture whilst undulating their hips to indicate unsatisfied desire. (One unfortunate woman appears to have a raven chewing on her skull, so I would assume her hookup opportunities are limited. Poor thing. Guess she picked the wrong hair gel.)

Adam immediately takes center stage, with his leather jacket and his hair jacked to Jesus, and proceeds to own the room through sheer will. He’s a little too dependent on jabbing about with that walking stick, but that’s much better than grabbing his crotch rap-style, so we’ll give him that. We also seem to have lots of trampy girls lying on the floor, because legs swathed in fishnet stockings are being thrust in the air at random.

It soon becomes clear that this club is really not about dancing, based on the numerous shots of couples of all types thrusting tongues at each other. I’m fairly certain that no one is actually listening to the music, so I’m not sure why Adam is even here, but we’ll run with it for now. At the very least, we can pick up some tips on how to advertise your availability in dim lighting.

Okay, now Adam is sitting on a throne of some kind, and they’ve messed with his eyes (at least I think they have) so that he appears to be slightly demonic. I hadn’t really noticed before, but Adam sure has a very busy tongue. That thing is flopping all over the place. Is that why he can hit the high notes? Because he’s not getting enough oxygen and the falsetto is really a cry for help?

Anyway, back to the club proper, where people are pawing one another like there’s a prize if you touch enough nipples. Then the throne again, where Adam has managed to find a green snake that he is screwing around with, letting it roam about his body. (What the hell?) Then back out to the dance floor, where Adam has decided that it’s very important that he and some scantily-clad vixens do a line dance. Adam has yet another jacket with spiky things on the shoulders, so it’s very clear that he’s in charge and the strumpets better dance their asses off.

This bit goes on for a while, with both men and women clawing each other to touch Adam in some way. (Perhaps they want to do some snake-handling of their own?) There’s one segment where all the dancers are bent over and pawing at the ground like horses. I have no idea what it means, but it’s cute.

Now Adam is wandering through a tropical jungle. (I guess they don’t spare any expenses on décor in the L.A. clubs.) Anonymous hands are reaching out from the foliage to express their physical love for Adam. I hadn’t realized until now that Adam simply taking a stroll can cause so many people to reach instant orgasm. Maybe it’s that walking stick?

More diddling with the green snake on the throne.

And more of the jungle, with a jarring preponderance of females latching on to Adam and praying for a pre-nup. Not sure what that’s all about, since we all know by now that Adam’s Garden of Eden involves Adam and Yves, not Adam and Eve, but nobody asked me to storyboard this thing. Then again, “Will and Grace” might have been a hit, but if you startle too many of the red-state people there might be some difficult questions in the morning.

Back to the dance floor again, with Adam and his stick directing the dancers to shimmy and thrust like their lives depended on it. We also have shots of some stud being blindfolded with black lace. I’ve never understood this blindfold thing when it comes to bumping uglies. Why would you NOT want to see what’s coming at you in the bedroom?

Anyway, we roll into a montage of Adam playing Julie the cruise ship director on the dance floor, more of Adam doing some bungle in the jungle, and Adam still jacking around with that snake on his throne. Thrown into the mix are glimpses of very happy people wearing skimpy attire and sending out signals that they will sleep with anyone as long as there’s no drama or cab fare.

Oh, and we have a dramatic bit where somebody finally takes the blindfold of the stud, which causes Adam to sing the highest notes that he possibly can and the dancers to start misplacing most of their wardrobe. This leads to scenes with everybody in the club waving their hands over their heads while Adam over-dramatizes on the stage. Meanwhile, some skank with a severe hairdo wanders around behind wailing Adam and does nothing worthwhile.

We wind down with everyone in the club achieving some type of sexual-release milestone, apparently pushed to this destination by the fact that Adam is wearing black fingernail polish and has pointy things on his couture. The camera then pans back above ground, where bereft people are still driving about, completely unaware that sexual nirvana is just a few feet below them….

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Pet Shop Boys - “West End Girls”

I have no idea what is going on in this video, but we’ll give it a run.

We start out with somebody walking past a store where small children seem to be trapped behind glass. You’d think this would be an unsavory experience, but they seem to be smiling, so who knows. Then the camera starts whizzing around, jumping from one thing to another, and it’s very unclear what we’re seeing. (Was that Brad Pitt eating a corndog?) People are walking around in tight jeans and there seems to be an abundance of neon signs. And somebody who might be Martina Navratilova seems very invested in whipping her hair around.

The frenzied imagery finally stops and we see Neil Tennant sashaying along some street, apparently having just had his hair fluffed and/or having just purchased a trench coat that makes him look even skinnier that he already is. There are some other people with him, but I don’t know if they are part of the band, members of a security detail, or people who just like walking along a street on an overcast day.

Close-up of Neil’s face. He’s looking very serious. But the British always look serious, so we aren’t really learning anything.

Oh, now Neil is standing in front of a pink steel door, belting out the first part of the song. There’s another guy standing beside him, but he doesn’t look really pleased to be here, and his image is kind of faded. And why is Neil doing that thing with his left pinky?

Brief glimpse of somebody’s nose. Beats me.

Back to the pink wall, where Unknown has moved behind Neil, and Neil continues to sing in a manner that draws attention to his interesting hairdo. And the growing realization that perhaps Neil might not have an actual jaw. Unknown Man glances off to the left, desperately searching for cue cards that might let him know what is going on and what he needs to do next. (Wait, is Unknown actually Chris Lowe? Maybe. We’ll just keep calling him Unknown for now, because that’s artsy and stuff.)

Now Neil and Unknown Chris are standing near some odd stairs. Then they’re walking on some elevated crosswalks, and descending some other odd stairs. (Are they trying to find the subway?) Shots of crowds of people heading various places, and then a shot of Neil with an exclamation point over his left shoulder. What does that mean? Are those rude little Germans bombing London again?

The punctuation symbol goes away, replaced by Unknown Possibly Chris. Neil bellows some more, and Chris continues to be uninterested in anything that might be happening. Now the boys are walking past a bookstore, then they’re in a mall trying to avoid being run down by the camera, then a double-decker bus whizzes by because you haven’t really seen London until you’ve managed to not get run down by one of those, and then we’re apparently on a helicopter tour of famous London images.

Back to the… I don’t know, place where Neil and Chris are walking around and pretending that there’s not a camera tracking them. Chris actually shows some signs of life by performing a quick dance step. Or he might have tripped over something. Not sure.

Now they’re walking along the Thames River (I’m assuming) and it’s still overcast, so I’m not sure that London gets a lot of sunshine, so this is probably not a place that Katrina and the Waves should visit. Shot of the river water, then a nice composed shot of the guys with the Tower of London or maybe Margaret Thatcher’s house in the background. (Chris is still not interested. That dude is basically over everything.)

More shots of various random people, including a woman with earrings that could double as anchors for a cruise ship. We also learn that people like to eat while walking. And gamble. Or at least do something with machines that appear to be gambling devices. Maybe they’re just inspecting them to make sure the bells and whistles are pleasing.

Oh wait, now we have lots of those tiny European cars racing past what might be a government building, or a hotel, or a royal residence with crappy security. This doesn’t escalate into a riot or an embassy bombing, so I don’t know why this footage is included.

And there’s Neil again, singing some more with that exclamation point and some neon pink lettering that experience tells me has something to do with questionable venues where small women walk on your back for money. (I really don’t think Neil would be interested in such places, so the mystery deepens. Chris is nowhere to be found at this point, so perhaps he’s much more receptive to the back-walking.)

Dramatic image of Neil glancing off to his right. But nothing happens. So he sings another line of the song and then glances again. Still nothing. Dude, is somebody missing a cue or do you have an attention deficit issue?

We end with the camera traveling along a street and showing lots of people waiting in lines to get into places that are apparently popular. But we don’t know these places and we don’t know these people, so the emotional investment just isn’t there. We fade to black as Neil whispers the final lines of the song.

But seriously. Where the hell are the West End Girls? Did I miss them?

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: The Script - “Breakeven (Falling To Pieces)”

We start out with the lead singer driving along in his car, destination unknown, while we hear a woman repeating herself in voiceover. We don’t know if it’s a flashback or a haunting. We get glimpses of the band performing while the lead singer (Danny) watches a big blue boat float past. He’s really sad, which probably has nothing to do with the “Where’s Waldo?” tower behind him. We also get brief shots of some presumably naked people having a swell time.

Cut to Danny sitting all alone in the dark, fiddling with his cell phone, proving that society has issues if people need to check their text messages when they should be singing in a music video. He finally does start with the singing, triggering some more flashbacks where his girl is doing something with wheat as well as more intimate nap time. (There’s that tower again.) It appears that Nameless Girl really likes to have videos taken of her while she wears a coat, so she’s probably high-maintenance.

Back to Danny sitting again, this time in what we’ll assume is his bedroom. He checks for head lice, but doesn’t find any. He’s still sad. I’m no counselor, but maybe if he got off that damn bed things might improve a little. Oh look, I guess he heard me because the band is performing once more. The guitar player seems pretty happy, so maybe Danny should have a few beers with his buddy and figure out the secret.

But no, Danny instead has some more flashbacks, this time of Nameless Girl marching out his front door with one tiny suitcase, so either the relationship wasn’t that serious to begin with or she’s misplaced a lot of things. Danny just watches her go, already writing this song in his head. He runs back inside to get a pencil.

And more of the band performing. The audience really seems to be enjoying the music, so maybe they don’t understand that it’s not exactly a joyous song. Danny likes to wave his hand at something in the upper balcony, so we’ll assume that he and Nameless had a good time or two up there. Of course, he’s still having flashbacks, this time of Nameless auditioning for a shampoo commercial. Or lipstick. Something that requires Nameless to gaze at the camera with barely controlled yearning for the latest beauty products.

Extended montage of the couple being intimate again. Did these two do anything besides have sex and wear jackets on a cloudy day? Danny is singing on stage again, and he’s completely ignoring his keyboard, so this must be the most emotionally-wrenching part of the song for him and he can’t multi-task. (Another shot of the duo showing their fondness for L. L. Bean outerware.) Danny waves to the other balcony, so I’m guessing that second floor is a really happening place.

Now we have Danny singing by that striped tower again, and I’m starting to think it might have something to do with the breakup. It’s always there, and everyone knows that three-way relationships are very difficult to maintain. No wonder Nameless finally packed her minimal things, she was tired of playing second fiddle to something that’s taller than her and doesn’t talk very much.

Scene with Danny realizing that his keyboard isn’t even plugged in, while the audience waits for him to realize where they are. Another shot of the couple in bed, and Danny is wearing a shirt that probably didn’t help the relationship, either. Back to the stage, where something very bright just landed on the audience. Danny looks up and sings to the ceiling, so I guess he and nameless did it on the roof as well. They were very busy people back in the day.

Another shot at the seashore, where Nameless thinks she’s on a high-fashion runway, followed by more footage of the couple walking in that wheat, and Danny checking his inbox. The song winds down as we see Danny brooding in various locales, and snippets of Nameless apparently already with another guy. Danny sighs, adjusts his coat collar, and then goes to see what the Waldo tower is doing for dinner…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Crowded House - “Don’t Dream It’s Over”

We start out with the camera approaching an open window, so once again we are going to be doing voyeuristic things, spying on people performing activities that are considered private when music isn’t playing. Neil Finn is sitting on a bed (probably his, who knows), strumming his guitar. Out of nowhere, a plate comes flying up and smashes against the screen. No explanation is given, but get used to it. Possessed tableware is all over this video.

Neil doesn’t mind the shattered crockery, and just keeps playing and singing. He gets up, slowly wanders across the room, avoids a mysterious shower of somebody’s exploding mail, and goes out the door. We’ve now gone back in time 18 years, where somebody is watching home movies and flipping through photo albums while another plate smashes. This person is also not concerned with projectiles, continuing to gaze at people in black-and-white photos with startling hairdos.

Flash forward 7 years to another room, where a chicken nugget on a stick sails by as folks are packing things in boxes and vacuuming an ugly carpet. More chicken nuggets levitate, as well as giant heads of the band members. This room is incredibly boring, so I’m glad when we move on.

Now we have a close-up of Neil singing, followed by shots of an old radio, somebody looking through a telescope (trying to find an actual script?) and ghostly papers that flutter about. Yet another room, where one of the band members is wearing one of those embroidered half-jackets and you expect a bull to run by looking for a red flag. This doesn’t happen, but we do get shots of a religious statue and some horrid wallpaper.

Now the band is in a 60’s kitchen, where there’s plenty of dinnerware that can fly about. Shots of a partially-eaten breakfast being ignored while someone plays a guitar and somebody else irons a shirt. (People, at some point you have got to show me something interesting. This review is about to self-implode with drabness. We need some stabbing or a fire or a gratuitous shower scene. Something.) But no, more ironing and breakfast-ignoring.

Finally, even Neil can’t stand this room and moves on. Next we have a garage (I think) where all of the band is actually playing their instruments. But instead of the pace picking up and the band jamming and sweating and showing actual signs of life, Neil puts down his guitar, whispers something to the drummer, and then leaves the house.

Once outside, Neil puts on an overcoat and wanders off in the direction of a hill in the distance.

Really? That’s it, guys? Hmmm.

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Lloyd - “Lay It Down”

We start out with a nice aerial shot, flying over a city that somebody else might recognize. Cut to Lloyd and a lovely lass strolling along a street. (Naturally, he has his shades on because it’s pitch dark outside.) They’re holding hands, which is refreshing, because in some videos people would already be having sex 7 seconds into the video.

Cut to Lloyd standing in… not sure. Is this a fancy bathroom in a hip night club? Maybe Lloyd will sing about it and tell us where he is. Well, no, he wants us to lay our head on his pillow. I don’t really want to do that, but I’ll see what else he has to say. Seriously, he wants us to lay our damn head on his pillow. Lloyd is really pushy. Maybe later, dude. Depends on how the drinking goes.

We start seeing brief glimpses of some finely-dressed people enjoying champagne at what might be a restaurant. They’re just sitting around and quietly talking. Perhaps they’re waiting for Lloyd to make his way out of the bathroom, because he’s still in there, insisting that we get some rest. Maybe someone should go check on him.

Oh good, looks like Lloyd finally broke free, because now he’s joined the elegant people wherever they are drinking that champagne. Lloyd is so happy to be out of the bathroom that he high-fives people and hugs them, even if they don’t know who he is. His lovely lass (let’s call her Janice) is by his side, being fully supportive after his harrowing ordeal.

Everybody raises their glasses of champagne to the notion that all people should be able to exit public facilities whenever they want to. More champagne is poured, because you never know when somebody else might be released from the men’s room and they need to be prepared to celebrate.

Brief shot of what might be a DJ, but he doesn’t introduce himself, so we don’t know for sure. This is followed by more happy people chatting and drinking the bubbly. Then Lloyd is back in that bathroom again, which is probably not an ideal move, but hopefully he’ll remember his way out this time.

Now we have Lloyd eyeing Janice across the table of friends. This inspires Janice to come over and ask Lloyd to help adjust her boobs. That’s all it takes to get the fires burning, and we cut to an alley where Janice is pawing at Lloyd’s clothing. Just to make sure he understands her needs, she turns around and crams her booty up against him. To her dismay, he keeps singing, so she finally resorts to a stronger message, wrapping one leg around his waist and heaving her breasts toward heaven.

Lloyd finally shuts up for a second, realizes that perhaps there are some other things they could be doing right now, and they run hop in his car, headed toward what we can assume is more erotic location than a smelly alley. During the journey, we see shots of Lloyd singing in another room, this one with tufted walls that make it look like he’s bellowing inside a giant coffin. This man sure chooses some odd places to sing.

They finally get to a fancy house (we know this because some butler guy opens the car doors for them) and the loving couple troops inside. Thoughtfully, someone has arranged for an orchestra to be right there, playing along as Janice flings her tiny purse to the side, quickly joined by most of her clothing.

But instead of hopping right in the sack that we actually haven’t seen yet (were they going to do it on the marble floor?), Janice heads toward a really nice swimming pool. (Maybe she wants to rinse off the smell of rotting cabbage that she picked up while doing sexual gymnastics in the alley.) I’m guessing Lloyd is not particularly fond of this change in itinerary, because he starts to sing a little more desperately in that coffin room.

Cut to the couple finally in bed, and we learn that Lloyd has more tattoos than you would ever have imagined. Janice is on top of him, showing tremendous amounts of affection for the ink work. She must have just the right touch, because Lloyd suddenly starts yodeling while his head hangs upside down.

Whoops, now we’re back to the pool, where Lloyd is convincing his little kitten that she can swim later, like after the video’s done. (Apparently we had some focus issues in the editing room.) They troop once more to the boudoir, even though we’ve already been there. More tattoo exposure and yodeling, complemented by shots of Janice flinging her head about with wild abandon so that her dangly gold earrings catch the light just right, accenting the fact that she has breasts, in case we’ve forgotten.

The music fades as Lloyd and Janice consummate their 5-minute relationship. Far off in the night, the von Trapp family is pleased that yodeling is making a comeback…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Bruno Mars - “Grenade”

We start out with Bruno sitting in what is presumably his bedroom, with rain pouring down outside and splashing against the window. (I’m going to guess the rain is symbolic of the money that Bruno is now making.) But despite his wealth, Bruno’s a little blue, staring at a picture of a couple with sadness and non-dancing. Perhaps he should just put the picture down since it’s so traumatizing.

Cut to Bruno and his fancy shoes fiddling with some rope. It’s not immediately clear what he’s doing, but judging by his strained expression we’ll assume that it’s not fun. He struggles for a while, then we see that he’s actually using the rope to drag a piano down the street. We have no idea why he’s doing this. He has the cash. Can’t he just hire some movers?

The dragging continues, with passing motorists not even slowing down to help him, so he must be in L.A., because people never get out of their cars there, let alone offer roadside assistance. We also see a homeless man, who seems to be staring in amazement at the vision of Bruno toiling, but I think he’s lying. He lives on the streets, so you know he’s seen much worse, like Lindsay Lohan not wearing panties while she staggers home from an after-party.

Okay, some of the motorists are honking, which is a bit rude. Can they not see that this man is trying to make a video here? Sheesh. Anyway, we cut back to Bruno in his sad bedroom. It’s still raining, in case you’re keeping track, and Bruno is touching the window with despondent little fingers, but at least he’s tossed aside that picture that started this whole mess. It’s really amazing how often photography can lead to misfortune and lyrics about loss.

Now Piano Bruno appears to be schlepping his furniture through a part of the Barrio, because we have men with dogs comparing tattoos. (This is probably not the best place for Bruno to be lugging a piano while wearing pretty shoes, but I didn’t write the script.) Naturally, because the street thugs are bored waiting for a drive-by to happen, they mess with Bruno and his friend. One of the guys is super aggressive, and tears up Bruno’s picture, so he’s probably heard about the evils of photographs as well.

The thugs finally get distracted by something else, and they let Bruno pass. Oh look, there’s that homeless guy again, scrounging for dinner in a dumpster until he spots Bruno. Homeless tries to tell Bruno something really important, but Bruno doesn’t care, so Homeless runs off to think about the last time he might have changed his underwear.

Now Bruno is going downhill, still sweating and tugging on the rope, and I don’t really understand that. It’s a hill, people. Shouldn’t the piano be running him over now? But I guess it’s not important, since Bruno soon arrives outside some house, and he drops the rope. Bruno spies his girl in an upstairs open window, and his face lights up. Then we learn that Girl is a tramp, because some stud boy walks up and starts using his tongue to dig for buried treasure in Girl’s ear.

How sad. Bruno stupidly but sweetly dragged furniture across town to win his woman back, and she done found another chew toy. Maybe Bruno should have called first.

So dejected little Bruno picks up the hateful rope and drags his piano away from the house. Slut Girl watches him do so for a bit, then she runs off to play squat tag with her new beau. And now poor Bruno has to push the piano up the hill that it should have rolled down. (It really might be time for Bruno to look at playing some other type of instrument, especially if there’s going to be any more emotional breakups in his future. Just sayin.)

Okay, where did this big-ass bridge come from, with the steep slope? We didn’t encounter that on the way over. Why would Bruno go back home a different way, especially a way that has more serious hills? And it would probably be a lot easier to push the piano if Bruno didn’t insist on singing while he was doing it. Slut Girl can’t hear you any more, so it’s kind of pointless to be vocalizing. Perhaps you should just hum until you get over this damn bridge.

Bruno meanders for a bit more, passing a priest and a nun who look at him with barely-disguised disdain. (Bruno must have missed confession again, probably because he was working out so he could move the piano that didn’t need to be moved after all.) Now he’s at a railroad crossing and it’s completely dark outside, so either I fell asleep and missed something or night falls really fast in this town. As a train approaches, Bruno pauses to play a little ditty on the piano, mainly because the flashing-red warning lights look really pretty splashing on the ivory keys.

Then the train hits the piano and the video ends.

Um. What?

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Britney Spears - “Toxic”

We start off with what looks like an apocalyptic setting, and suddenly two vicious birds are flying obnoxiously toward us before zipping past. While we ponder why the hell that was necessary, here comes a futuristic plane ready to kill us as well. (Does Britney want us to die?) The camera zooms through the cockpit, past the two pilots who are cute (of course), out the cockpit door and down the main aisle toward a flight attendant who clearly had an issue with her costume because I’m seeing far more flesh than I care to at 30,000 feet. Or on the ground.

This chippy is facing away from us for now, in an attempt to build drama, but we know it’s Britney because the producers aren’t going to spend the cash on an opening like that for just any old drag queen. Brit picks up a handy nearby phone, then whips her head around for full disclosure and starts singing into the phone. (Is the girl just not comfortable with herself unless she’s holding something that feels like a microphone?) She sings for a bit, and does a few twirls so we can see her skimpy outfit was designed to enhance the fact that she has breasts. As if we didn’t know this from her other videos.

Cut to Britney somewhere else, writhing on the floor and wearing a new outfit that can only be described as basically non-existent. (Sure, we have some strategic glitter patches, by why even bother?) Back to the plane, where Britney is serving people champagne from a cart and hooker-walking her way down the aisle in a manner that suggests there’s a live crawfish lose in her panties. For some comedy relief, Britney spills some champagne in the crotch of a nerdy passenger, and then affects a surprised look reminiscent of Lucille Ball. If Lucille were wearing an outfit that you can accessorize with a stripper pole.

Britney snatches up a napkin and proceeds to man-handle the guy’s crotch in an exuberant housekeeping gesture, which triggers the video to cut back to Writhing Britney, still wallering around on that floor and not really wearing anything. Back to the plane, where Brit and the other traveling tramps, I mean flight attendants, have decided to do a line dance in the aisle. (Maybe the in-flight movie wasn’t working properly?) These girls seem very excited about the opportunity to caress a luggage bin with lusty abandon.

Easily distracted, Britney then focuses on another nerdy guy walking down the aisle, signaling him to come toward her with one naughty finger. He doesn’t seem to understand what she wants, so Britney makes it clear by using her breasts to tune in Tokyo.

Next thing you know, the two of them are scampering into the bathroom so they can have upright sex. Britney decides that her mating choice needs to be cuter, so she rips off his face and he turns into Brad Pitt with long, blond hair. (Hey, does that really work? Might need to try that.) More shots of Floor-Hunching Britney, then back to the loo, where Britney finishes the bump and grind by pinching some device from Brad’s pocket and flouncing out the door.

Zip over to another setting that requires Britney to wear a red wig and disco sunglasses. Oh, it must be Paris, because now they’re conveniently showing us the Eiffel Tower in the background while Britney appreciates her own body. Then she runs to hop on a motorcycle being driven by another cute guy who is pleasingly shirtless. (Can you imagine the call sheet for his character: “Need muscular guy who hates clothes but can straddle a machine and look hawt.”)

They race through the Parisian streets, irritating locals at cafes and causing one Lolita’s dress to fly up so we can see her panties are too small. Britney spends some time undulating on the back of the bike, so she must really like things that rev. Or wearing hair of an unnatural color. We also get more shots of Trollop Britney still doing the splits on that stage, as well as some fishnet-hose-clad S&M girls who appear to be comparing kneecaps.

Eventually, Britney either falls off the motorcycle or is thrown off by Shirtless who has decided that she is too high-maintenance. In any case, Britney assumes a huntress pose in the middle of the street to assure us that nothing important has been damaged.

Brief shot of Brit bellowing into a phone and then something exploding. No idea.

Now Britney is walking down a futuristic hallway that is on fire, which is not something that I would suggest, but I’ve never worn a wig like that so I don’t really know what it might inspire you to do. This bit of defiance causes Floor-Hunching Britney to finally stand up and wave her hands over her head. She has been healed! Can we get a hallelujah?

Fire-Tunnel Britney is now doing something electronic, like hacking into a secure area or maybe creating a vibrator that can also clean house. Hacking Britney races into the room she’s just breached, and snatches up a small bottle with something green. (Birth control pills? Because I’m thinking she might need them.) Britney then goes back out into the Fire Tunnel, which is now apparently the Laser-Lightshow-Tunnel. This change of scenery inspires Britney to do some nice moves that involve high-kicks, yelling, and telling us to be quiet. (Girl, I ain’t said nothin. Don’t look at me.)

Floor-Hunching Britney is now sprawled out on said floor again, so I guess her healing was only temporary. This is what happens when you have HMO’s.

Laser-Tunnel Britney does some flip-kicking moves that causes something to get smashed, and then we cut to people having sex in a shower. (I probably missed something in the transition.) Brief glimpse of Hunching Britney still not healed, and then Laser Britney fighting off a cloud of flying projectiles. (People returning her last CD?)

It doesn’t really matter, because now we have Britney in another wig, climbing the side of a building using popsicles. She gets to the top floor, and does a flip move while wearing a leather outfit, both of which she stole from either the “Blade” or “Underworld” movie series. In this fancy penthouse room, she encounters a cute guy that might be Airplane Brad Pitt, but I’m not sure because the penthouse is spacious and they are not crammed together, having sex while hovering over a toilet portal that could hurl your ass into the jet stream. (Hunching Britney is still popping up throughout this bit, but we’re basically over her. Bitch can’t walk and she’s horny. Got it.)

Blade Britney throws Brad on the bed. Then she throws him on the floor. Then she straddles him like it’s a Disney E-Ticket ride and they make out. Britney stops tonguing him long enough to whip out a vial of the green stuff she stole while wearing the red wig, and she pours it in his mouth. (Kind of rude, right? That Britney. Sell a few billion CD’s and you think you have the right to change how people have foreplay.) But Brit’s all done with this scene, giving Brad a quick peck on the lips and then running to throw herself over the side of the building.

And she lands in the plane where all this fun started. She gives us a wink (I was just kidding about being an international spy tramp. I just like to fly the friendly skies and serve cocktails.) and then proceeds to lean her breasts into the face of another passenger.

He orders two of them…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Christina Perri - “Jar Of Hearts”

We start out with Christina facing the camera, singing, and we know right away that she’s distraught, because she apparently tried to color her hair at one point but got too despondent to finish the job. She’s sitting on some steps somewhere, and she’s nonchalantly catching things falling from the sky. It might be bits of a burning building, or it could be some really ugly, dead butterflies. I’m not sure.

She finally stands up so the director can superimpose an image of something inky exploding from her chest, followed by a quick shot of an empty jar. (I’m not sure what that’s about, either, but Christina might want to speak to a cardiologist if that happens a lot.) Then she walks around the end of a car so we can see that, one, she’s wearing combat boots, so she’s that kind of girl, and something unfortunate has happened to part of her dress, and it no longer exists. Poor thing. No wonder she’s so sad.

Christina wanders through more cars while an odd smoke billows around. Something somewhere is seriously on fire, or maybe she lives in a city with bad-ass smog issues. We cut to a couple in a car, necking. We get a closeup of the woman’s heaving chest so we can see that inky image again, but this time we watch a heart being sucked out of the woman’s jar, out of her mouth, and into the wicked yapper of the guy. (I’m going to guess he’s the jerk in the song that Christina is singing, the one she really hates, causing her to have unfinished hair issues.) The now-heartless girl realizes that something is amiss, and she struggles to get away from The Evil Boyfriend.

Christina keeps singing and wandering through the battlefield / smog zone / school playground.

Now we have TEB and another girl, necking again, this time in a phone booth. (Because there are so many of those around these days, right?) He’s pulling his deviltry again, sucking at her primary organ. She figures it out as well, and tries to get away from him, but instead of either dying from lack of blood or running for the hills, she chooses to do a very dramatic swoon dance around the side of the booth. Some people just can’t get enough attention.

Christina again, still walking through the fog and bellowing about the pointlessness of relationships and tofu. But now she’s joined by a bevy of her friends, who decide to do an impromptu line dance behind Christina as she and her boots keep marching to wherever they’re going. It’s not clear what they are trying to convey with this choreography, but it must be important, because everyone looks very serious, they try to rend their hair several times, and most of them were busy concentrating on their special moves and forgot to put on a matching outfit.

The Evil Boyfriend once more, and now he’s got another floozy trapped under an umbrella. He pulls the suckage thing with her as well, and she also dances away rather than drive a stake through his heart, so apparently, even if you lose your heart, you will have the art of dance to take its place. Seems fair.

Oh look, now we have Evil Boyfriend surrounded by Christina and her posse. It appears that they are now going to dance him to death, or something like that. The first girl isn’t very successful. She forgets what she’s doing and tries to fly, which allows Evil to pull a move that looks like the Heimlich Maneuver, and she’s out. Another girl tries some special judo that includes high-kicks and backbends, but this doesn’t really get anywhere, either. Evil contorts her body until she looks like something a mule would drag when plowing a field.

(In case you’re wondering, Christina is standing off to the side, still warbling and not helping her Girls fight Evil. Seems a little selfish, to me. Maybe they aren’t that close.)

Now Evil is making one of the girls stand on his knees and act like the figurehead on the prow of a boat that sank a few hundred years ago. (She doesn’t like that and runs away.) Evil drags somebody else across the hood of a car, which is so not good for her couture. This girl gets really angry about that, and hurls Evil off the hood of the car after a brief scuffle. (Okay, then. This is the girl I want on my side in a rumble. None of that dancing crap.)

Evil scrambles off the ground and manages to catch another girl, who looks like she was just late for a pedicure and not really that threatening. I guess Evil doesn’t like pedicures and/or women who wear billowy white pantsuits, because he hoists the woman on his shoulder and twirls her around while her legs fly open. (It’s nice that she can do the splits, kudos, but I really didn’t need to see that.) Evil finally tosses her to the ground.

Now we finally see Christina approaching Evil. He looks slightly unnerved, but not really in the terrorized mood he should be in after being ambushed by a chorus line. This makes Christina even more mad, so she moves in for a kiss, and then sucks out his heart. Very nice twist, but do you really want any of his essence in your body? I don’t see how that can be good. But it’s not my video.

Evil slumps to the ground, while Christina casually watches, making sure he doesn’t despoil her combat boots. Then she marches away, with the heavy black ash turning into puffy white things that kittens might play with, so we can understand that Christina is moving on with her life, which is good. Who has time for heart-sucking death walkers?

As Christina disappears, we see Buffy and Angel run around the corner, just a tad too late to help with the demon-vanquishing. But at least they tried…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: T’Pau - “Heart And Soul”

I totally forgot that this thing is full of multiple superimposed images, so it gets a bit tough to figure out what’s going on, but I’ll give it my best shot. And, of course, I’ll just make crap up for the bits that I can’t crack.

We start off with a blue-tinted image of the lead singer (Carol?) on the right, and something involving a violin and a man’s torso on the left. Carol is looking really sad, but she’s trying her best to do a nice little swaying dance to the opening strains of the music. Then she kind of fades away and we are treated to shadow images of a man and a woman dancing near what might be a bonfire or a tragic accident involving excessive amounts of hairspray. (This was the 80’s, after all.)

Now we have shots of the drummer, um, drumming, and somebody else’s fingers diddling with a keyboard. And there’s one of the guitar players, but he’s not the cute one, so we really don’t care. More blue-tinted Carol, who apparently has enough hair that you could hide a few dead bodies in there. She’s still sad. Then Carol comes in from the other side of the screen, not blue this time, in an extreme closeup so we can see that she is very serious about her performance, so we need to pay attention. This is difficult, because the size of her dangly earrings is a total distraction.

Behind Carol, someone holding a video camera is either taking footage while running through some part of the Dust Bowl, or while riding a merry-go-round. Not clear, especially with all that damn Carol hair getting in the way all the time. Oh, good, quick shot of the guitar player who IS cute, so I feel a little better now. That Carol is kind of creepy.

Then we have a very brief glimpse of Carol (I think) sporting another hairstyle, and I fully understand why the producers only gave us an initial second or two of this look. Carol has piled all her hair on her head, and the resulting bouffant is the size of New Jersey. You have to be mentally prepared to look at something like that for any length of time, so the producers were being considerate by easing us into this transition.

More footage of the shadow-dancing couple and blue-tinted Carol with her sadness and lack of a hairbrush.

Now we’re back to Bouffant Carol, and we’re allowed to see her a little bit longer. There are sparks flying across the screen from the right, so I’m going to guess that the camera is being overworked trying to capture all that hair. Oh, and there’s something else on fire, but I can’t really tell what it is. This was a dangerous shoot.

More shots of the various Carol’s, then a better angle on that burning thing, and it appears to be a ritualistic seal of some kind. Why would they want to burn that? Are these people with the Inquisition in some way? Because I understand those folks were not very nice people. We need to be careful. If I hear the word “heretic”, I’m running.

Quick snippet of coins being dropped. Or spread around. Something with little metal discs and an overall sense of unexpectedness.

Shadow-dancers again, and it’s becoming very clear that the male half of this couple has no rhythm or skill whatsoever. And he keeps doing that “come here” gesture with one of his fingers, and this is totally annoying. I don’t want to come over there. Why would I want to be near someone who dances like they’ve got a corncob in the back forty?

Montage of the band members singing or playing, including the cute guitar player with the attempted Rick Springfield hairdo. Now Sad Carol is actually starting to perk up a little bit, waving her arms to the beat like Stevie Nicks during her gypsy phase. I don’t know what finally lightened her mood, but she needs to keep doing whatever it was.

More shadow-dancers. I think I’m starting to not care for them at all.

Oh boy. We finally got a full-frontal shot of what Bouffant Carol is wearing, and she looks like Amy Grant just after Amy quit singing all those religious songs and started wearing horrid 80’s outfits that will never, ever come back in style. Never. Once again, the producers are considerate of our mental health, and cut away from Amy Carol before the shock has fully registered.

Now the Shadow Dancer girl is running somewhere, but it’s a bit murky. It could be an apartment hallway or a train station. Then we cut back to Rick Springfield and the rest of the band, followed by another round of multiple Carol’s, and then back to the Shadow People, who are now dancing alongside a pink wall. (The inept Dancer Guy has now resorted to jumping in place as a means of musical enjoyment. I really wish he wouldn’t do that.)

Back to Carol, one of them, anyway, on the right side of the screen, while the Shadow People meander down a cracked sidewalk on the left. Oh, wait. Is that a jail cell? Please push the Dancer Guy in there. Please. But nobody does, and it nearly destroys me emotionally. To make matters worse, the camera actually focuses on Dancer Guy, who is now simply waving his hands over his head. And not even to the beat. This is turning into one of those slasher movies where you just want them to kill off all the minor characters so you can find out who’s the actual maniac with childhood issues, and then go have pizza.

More montage, mostly involving Carol’s hair, then we’re either crossing a bridge or trapped in the basement of a mental institution. This is followed by the Shadow People trudging up some really dirty steps. (We’re making a video here, people, you’d think somebody could find a broom.) The Shadow People make their way to a terra cotta floor, and proceed with more of the not dancing very well. Although, if you study the shadow image carefully, it does appear that Dancer Guy just might be snapping Dancer Girl’s neck. At this point, whatever it takes to make them quit dancing is fine by me.

We end with another montage, and a final shot of the Original Carol inquiring of us “Must I? Beg you?” As I stare at her face, wondering what she could possibly want from me, I realize that maybe all the Carol’s in this video are maybe not the same person, which would totally change my analysis of this sterling example of the 80’s at their best.

I worry about this for roughly two seconds and then close the document. It’s really not that important.

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Justin Bieber - “One Less Lonely Girl”

We start off with Justin doing a little dance step on some street somewhere. We’re not sure why he seems to be so happy, but he’s young and doesn’t have to worry about bills or being responsible. He starts singing to the camera, which is fine, but he keeps doing the little dance step, which is already annoying and we’re only 10 seconds into the video.

Luckily, the camera pans away so we can see the rest of the street. It’s a typical small-town setting, with businesses here and there, and an obvious lack of gangs and crack houses. We focus on one of those places where you can drag your clothes in and wash them yourself, so apparently something major is going to go down among the suds.

Here comes the starlet of the show, a pretty youngster (naturally) lugging a laundry basket with only about three items in it, so she obviously doesn’t understand things like economics and time-motion studies. She flits her way in the door and past Justin, who just happens to be sitting there playing his guitar. (All the hip young people practice their music in public washing areas.) He ogles Flirtina like she’s the hottest thing to ever carry a container of dirty panties. (In fact, he’s so lascivious with his leer that he would have been arrested if he were a few years older. But I guess horniness is cute when you can’t drive yet.)

Back to the street outside, where Justin sings some more, and seems to be really invested in touching his chest with what he thinks is conviction, but looks more like he’s got some serious congestion. Back inside, Flirtina is prepping her undies and catches Justin giving her the eye. She smiles back, and Justin plays his guitar. (There’s already so much sugar in this thing that they should be running a Diabetic Alert across the bottom of the screen.)

Street again, with more chest-touching and that little dance step that is no longer interesting in any way. (Can you seriously tell me that Paula Abdul wasn’t available for some pointers?) Back inside again, with Flirtina pretending to blush and clearly not getting anything clean while she plays eye-tag with Justin. Then she grabs her basket and leaves (what? forgot her quarters?), but not without obviously dropping something red on the floor. (Something tells me she no longer qualifies to wear white. Just sayin.)

Justin sees the droppage, and scampers over to snatch up the scarf. But instead of chasing down Flirtina and returning what might be her favorite article of clothing, one that she intends to wear at her wedding later that night (it could happen), Justin just stands there and grins to himself, a nefarious plot hatching somewhere under those deadly bangs of his.

Next we see, Justin is hanging up signs with arrows on streetlamps and such, and convincing passersby and street vendors to participate in whatever he has planned. What could The Bieber be up to? We find out when Flirtina enters the laundry facility again with a new load of wash. (She was just here. How dirty can she be?) Once more, she doesn’t really focus on her task at hand, and instead is peering around the place trying to find the guitar-playing teen that she suddenly can’t live without. When she can’t find him, she considers joining a convent, then returns to her basket. Then she spies a note on the wall. “I have your scarf. If you want it back, find me!” She grins ecstatically and dashes out the door, leaving her laundry behind, because nobody ever steals things in those places, right?

And I guess it doesn’t even cross Flirtina’s mind that the note she is now clutching is the same kind that a serial killer would use. Maybe Flirtina doesn’t watch “Law & Order”. Or the news. Or the back of milk cartons.

Flirty starts finding the cute little signs that Justin’s assistant has drawn, bearing slogans like “I will buy you expensive chocolate”, “I will shower you with kisses” and “Please sign this pre-nup.” Flirty also encounters some bonus gifts like candy, flowers and a puppy. These things are handed to her by shop-owners who are willingly promoting underage hanky-panky. Times change, right? Back in the day, you had to sneak out in the middle of the night for a few minutes of groping with your squeeze. Now the grownups are apparently reserving the hotel rooms for you. (Maybe it’s the frequent flier miles.)

Eventually, Flirtina makes it to the end of the trail, dragging along about 500 pages of crayoned paper, so you know she’s a bit tuckered. Flirty wanders into some building where Justin has arranged for candles, strings of pretty lights, and the absence of any responsible adults. He puts the missing scarf around Flirty and then they nuzzle. This causes Flirty to have flashbacks to all the nice presents and livestock she picked up on the way over. They hold each other as the music fades…

Now I think I’ll go watch “The Blue Lagoon.” It seems to be calling to me…

　

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Backup Dancers From Hell: Christina Aguilera - “Not Myself Tonight”

Apparently not, based on this video. Girl done got her some new outfits and an overdose of hormones. Look out. (Side note: There’s some language in this one, and some eye-opening scenes that would not play well at a Baptist revival, so keep that in mind.)

We start off rather chastely, with Christina dolled up in that Greta-Garbo-on-acid look that she’s been sporting for the new album. Nobody’s having sex or anything. But this cleanliness only lasts for a short bit, and we start getting glimpses of Christina wearing far less Puritan couture, and she’s already dripping sweat from her insatiable need to ride the white horse. (We also see that one of the makeup artists thought it would be fun to make Xtina’s eyes look like they exploded in one scene. But why?)

Cut to a room filled with sexy people wearing just bits of leather and some hair gel. Christina is the only one in white, making it easier to find her when it’s time to switch sex partners. She’s pawing on a few of the people while strutting around the room, so she apparently hasn’t made her selection from the menu yet. (Jump shot of Christina screaming for no apparent reason and then grabbing her crotch. Did it say something scary?)

While Christina continues to peruse the offerings in the main room of the sex club, we get other shots of Christina doing things like holding her face, wearing what might be a plastic raincoat, letting us get a closeup of her designer sunglasses, and showing that she can indeed pull off about 400 different hairstyles and still look cute. Well, as cute as one can be while dripping with “personal lubricant” and running around in clothing that is normally used to restrain the criminally insane.

Then the sex addicts in the main room decide to do a line dance, because that’s always a nice form of foreplay. As they prance about, Raincoat Christina decides that she really needs to caress the thighs of a woman hanging from the ceiling. (No explanation is given as to why the woman is in this predicament, the tramp is just there all the sudden.) Oh my, there’s a startling shot showing that Raincoat Christina just figured out what’s for dinner, and she gets busy with that. Seems Christina must have really liked gym class in high school.

Back to the main room, where people are still waving their arms and thrusting their crotches to the beat. (I’m not sure why the girls are all dancing together in power formation, and the guys seem to be dancing with just themselves and apparently listening to a different song, but I haven’t been to any sex clubs lately so I’m sure there’s been some changes.) There IS one point when everybody jumps in the air at the same time, and that’s kind of fun, but it doesn’t really prove anything.

Meanwhile, all the side sex shows are still going on, proving that Christina is a very busy girl. I think my favorite bit is when she makes the army of poodle-haired look-alikes do aerobics, sort of a twisted commercial for the L.A. Fitness that just opened in Stepford. Not so crazy about the business with Christina crawling on the ground and lapping from a dog bowl, because Madonna already did that back in the day with the “Express Yourself” video, and people, once Madonna has done it, there’s no point in you even trying to do it yourself, because it won’t be the same. (They teach you this in “Self-Promotion 101”, the first day of class.)

Anyway, Christina and all her little friends keep gyrating about in all the various settings. They seem to be having a good time, which is nice, but these people really need to calm down if they actually want to hook up. (In one interesting shot, Christina proves that she can continue singing the song whilst wearing a designer wetsuit and scratching her back with her extremely-high heels at the same time. This is something you can only do if you are pop star who can afford a personal trainer.)

Right after Christina sings the bit about having lost her mind (at least she’s honest), the jump-cutting kicks into high gear. More fun with pet food bowls, dressing like a mummy while perched on a red velvet chair, and Christina showing that her fingers are just as limber as her legs, flipping us off if we don’t care for her singing about her hoo-hoo and frolicking with randy people wearing pointless shreds of clothing who can grab her breasts in time to the beat.

Now Christina has managed to come up with a “Blade Runner” hairdo and a dress that was run over by a tractor. This Christina really likes to run her fingers over her neck, but she might just be trying to get some of the bobby pins out, because that hairdo looks WAY too tight. Cut to 8 shirtless guys wearing jeans and doing a line dance in a parking lot where it’s rainy and dark. They’re cute and muscular and all, but why would they want to do this?

It seems that Christina is wondering the same thing, so she puts on a red bra and panties to go check it out. The guys don’t explain anything, but they do form a circle around Christina and pretend like they are banging on drums while she acts like her crotch is about to explode. Perhaps this is a tribal ritual from one of those countries where they still don’t get satellite TV.

Now Christina is doing another Madonna tribute, hopping around on a giant Art Deco staircase and fiddling with a monocle. (Oh, and there’s also something about a hooker choir in a church, but it’s not really clear what they are doing in this particular House of the Lord, other than some choreography that involves slut stilettos and g-strings. That’s one offering plate that you probably shouldn’t touch without wearing latex gloves.)

Next we have Christina walking out of a clothes closet, most likely because her hair is too big and bushy to stand in there comfortably. She’s holding a Molotov cocktail, which she casually tosses over her shoulder into the closet, then assumes a sexy stance which actually looks like it might require a chiropractor if she does that too much. (I guess those clothes were SO last season and it was time for them to go. Burning the house to the ground is one way to take care of that.)

Shameless plug of Christina’s new line of fragrances, with the camera lingering lovingly on two of the glamorous bottles. Oh wait, the plug continues, with Christina, back in the red panties and bra, practically dousing herself with gallons of the perfume. Apparently this is some good stuff, because it causes a sweaty stud to magically appear in the room with her.

And I guess the fragrance gets into the air vents of the sound stage, because suddenly everyone in all the set pieces erupts into a mad whirl of pawing each other and tossing bits of clothing about. While Christina straddles her Magic Man, the rest of the gang gets busy clawing, riding, flipping hair, changing partners with every third word of the song, and line-dancing whenever there’s enough floor space.

The alarming carnality reaches a peak and then recedes with the whispering end of the song. We are left with Christina having managed to find some of her clothes and staring directly into the camera, acting all innocent, pure, and incapable of doing anything we’ve just seen her do.

Uh huh.

　

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