Ok I will start....here. TEN MINUTES? Who has ten fucking minutes to watch a video? This shit is an epic in the fucking dictionary definition; my adult onset ADD does not really allow for focusing on something for more then 90 seconds at a time.
But I did it. FOR YOU GUYSand for the LOVE OF THE GA.
SO..in a brief sentence, what we have here is one a them "video movies" that were sorta popular in the 90s (Hellloooo Beastie Boys' Spike Jone directed Sabotage..which ps was still only abt 4 mins long) that is some sort of Kill Bill / Thelma Louise / Who's that Girl / 70s Lesbo prison porn mashup with chola eyebrows and Beyonce as a Vargas girl.
Allow me to attempt to run through the video and discuss Important Moments, the outfits (bitch has more major outfits than seems possible), the PRODUCT PLACEMENT (barf), call out some pop culture refereces as I see them, and try to understand what the fuck is going on.
LET'S DO IT.
Whoa whoa whoa.
Someone loves the 70s.
Or a "feels like the 70s"..much like in the aforementioned BBoys video:
or in the (totally underrated) Quentin Tarantino (more on his influence later) move:
Guess who else loves the 70s? THIS GIRL RIGHT HERE. So right off, I am kinda into this.
This, we are told, is "Prison for Bitches". As far as I can tell, it is very warm there, as even the wardens have their tits out. Gagaloo (in Jean Charles De Castelbajac) will probs fit in just fine here. Except for the fact that one of them tell her "SAY GOODBYE TO FASHION".
NOT FUCKING LIKELY, BITCHES. (I can call them that, as it is a Prison For Them)
Hey hey heyyyyyy watch the leather, man!
"I told you she didn't have a dick" Guess it sucks to have started a rumor about yourself that just WON'T QUIT, huh Ga? Well, now we all know.
Cut to the prison yard, our heroine in chains (by Viktor & Rolf)
Time for some exercise! And maybe some fresh air...that is of course if she doesn't breathe in anywhere near her OWN FACE as her SUNGLASSES are made of LIT CIGARETTES (by Haus of Gaga, as if you had to wonder). I have to say, I wanna barf a little in my Diet Coke thinking of the smell.
[Product placement: The diamond headphones that she shills for are on an inmate rocking out in the yard]
Double barf thinking about having to kiss her at this moment, I mean..i can't. Thank god this chick is wearing sunglasses she might singe her eyebrows off.
I like that big girl in the back. She like...damn, now it's Burning Tobacco Glasses?! I just MADE this FUCKING HAIR BOW! Sheeeeeit.
PRODUCT PLACEMENT 2: A certain cellphone compant has their phone in her crotch. YEAH I BLURRED IT OUT, I AM NOT GETTING PAID FOR THIS SHIT.
SIDENOTE: Why would you want yr cellphone comapnay affiliated with a song where her fucking phone don't get her no service in the club? JUST WONDERING
SO MUCH IMPORTANCE, on so many levels. DIET COKE CAN CURLERZZZ! HAAAHHA omg that shit is so dope. I love it!
But what else is this about? Is that girl representing a young Stefani Germanotta at right? If i was writing this for a dissertation I would compare this to the theme of twins in Finnegan's Wake...ok, no I wouldn't, I stole that whole reference from The Bell Jar I have never been anywhere near a copy of Finnegan's Wake.
Point being..IS THIS THE TWO SIDES TO GA? Young and unadorned, new and covered in crap?
WHO KNOWS, I DIDN'T WRITE THIS SCRIPT.
This is the most serious eyebrow game I have ever seen in my entire life. It makes Joan Crawford look like Whoopi Goldberg (get it? Whoopi HAS NO EYEBROWS). And obvi...the chola lip is so hot. SO HOT.
There was some crazy cat fight whatevs happening and then..HEY GAGA, PHONE CALL, BEYONCE´.
First Madonna reference, to my overcaffeinated brain..Shades of Desperately Seeking Susan?
Stretch? Shut it, this is my blog.
The SONG STARTS.
We are THREE MINUTES IN.
God this is long.
Not sure what this almost naked skinny mini dance scene is about; I guess this is for those of you who force your boyfriend into watching this and at this point he is really ready to bail, but then this comes on and he is like oh..wait.
GAHHHHHH ! GAGA PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET!!! (In Brian Lightenberg tape outfit)
PS, They show her with THAT PHONE AGAIN! In this get up! Where do you keep your phone in that?! (Don't answer that)
Someone bailed your ass out, lady (in vintage Mugler). I WONDER WHO?
One note on this "glove": we have taken it as far as we can haven't we, Fashion? A glove is now reduced to leather bits on just four of yr five fingers. Basta.
By the WAYYY...madonna reference #2:
SO Nikki Finn! Who's That Girl! She wears red lips and latex and studded jackets and major brows and the wardens are hired from the same Man Faced Scary Dyke casting agency.
You can't trick me, gurl. I am on to you.
See ya guys, my ride is here! It's...the Pussy Wagon? From..Kill Bill? What in the who...?
Shit gets weirdly Tarantino-ish from here, why didn't he direct this thing?????
Hi Beyonce! Sorry, "Honey Bee". Nice bangs!
They try to break down some deep shit here:
"Once you kill a cow, you gotta make a burger" and "Trust is like a mirror...something something who cares this makes no sense".
I don't know. Were you hoping I would unlock that mystery? Sors, I got nothing.
Um..you guys? Litering is really not cool.
So...now we're in a diner. And Gaga works in the kithen and takes the takeout orders from her brain with a bunch of produce queens dancing with heads of lettuce. This is the start of some sort of revenge death plot that we are never told about, where Beyonce is killing Tyrese with her d-eye-balls and a tiny bottle of poison, and Gagaloo is hosting her own Death by Sandwich Show on the bizarro Food Network.
This is the most delightful moment of the whole 985 minutes of this video.
YAY! LET'S MAKE A SANDWICH!! (Whisk maracas!)
Shades of poisoning Heather Chandler! Blue liquids (corn nuttssssssss).
Where are we? Beyonce's haus? Why? I dont know, the editing in this musical insanity is caraycray. I know you don't care, but I would love to have my hair look lke this say..EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE.
Shit, she works hard for the money! She has to waittress here too?!?
We are anothier level- Hair telephone eyepatch! Hair telephone cord!
Hmm. maybe I'm reading too much into this (why stop now) but...
...RIGHT? SORTA? YES.
Oh right.So..he dead. And like..other people are dead. Killer sammies. Homicidal bacon. Life-taking pancakes (I am just quoting from Zagats..this place has a bad rep)
We did it! We kiled everyone! We love America! LET'S DANCE IT OUT!
Gaga looks like Daisy of Love dressed like Bret Michaels.
I HAVE COME SO FAR, YET I UNDERSTAND NOTHING.
Then they peace out. And Jai from Queer Eye is a news reporter and everyone is dead (Kalifornia? Natural Born Killers? no?)
Then they dress like bee keepers and dance in the wind.
Then they pact a pact to run far far away and never come back.
Then...
Oh my god, really?
I DON'T HAVE THE TIME!
TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS NOW!
Ten minutes and 6,000 screen captures later, what have we learned? Tell me in the comments, I am fucking spent.
thank you kylie for the screenshot heads up and thank you nicola formichetti for always posting credits on your blog.
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