Why Madonna Can Get Away with Faux-Humping a Stereo
Music Video Review
Artist: Madonna
Video: "Hung Up"
Album: Confessions on a Dance Floor
Director: Johan Renck
Madonna, now a 47 year-old mother of two, looks pretty fucking amazing. In this latest video, Madonna's slight transformation into a `70s disco diva registers complete. For most of it, she's clad in a shimmery pink wrap, magenta leotard, practice tights, dainty heels, and a sequined belt. And as she kicks and pirouettes--and even when she pulses her crotch while sitting propped up on the floor--there's not a wrinkle or fat-flab in sight. Though I wonder whether or not Kabballah water really is the source of youth, what makes this 5 minutes and 31 seconds of pure pleasure is not simply Madonna's age-defying anatomy. It is the age-defying pulse of the video itself. It deftly maneuvers the simple, undeniable fact that dancing is fun and that, as "Flashdance" as it might sound, dancing well is a sure sign of a youthful kind of cool.
The video begins with Madonna strolling into a darkened studio, flipping on the lights, taking off her sweats, and turning on a hefty, black, light-blinking boombox. She and her pink leotard warm up and sway to the first beats of "Hung Up." And then the tempo picks up and the momentum begins to churn. Interspersed with well-timed cuts of Madonna practicing her twinkle-toes repertoire, the supporting content of the video is a series of four energetic vignettes of other dancers -- all over the world -- who are gettin' down. And what links them together, of course, is this big, black boombox blaring Madonna's addictive single and, even more palpable in the video, the infectious power of dance.
The first is a crowd of break-dancer like dudes hanging out on the roof and stairs of a concrete housing project. These guys bounce from wall to wall, walk down steps in backbends, fashion backflips, and do all manner of impressive, urban, break-dancer-y things. They set the fast, quick-cut pace for the video. The second group is a couple of kids in South Central Los Angeles waiting at a bus stop. The blinking stereo makes its way to the bench, and ghetto-fabulous dancing commences. One young upstart pushes everyone motionless and starts strutting her stuff, down to a split. As she dances her little heart out, everyone else piles into a cab and--in a witty move-- she's left behind in disappointment. Then there's the scene with a Chinese fishmonger hanging out behind the counter. He suddenly hears the music, slaps the fish around his shoulder like a prop, and starts gettin' down. Others join, including a Catholic schoolgirl, and they, too, start synching up with the beat.
Halfway through, night begins to fall and we see our friends from South Central getting out of a typical black London taxi cab, much to their surprise. We then catch a glimpse of them South Central friends riding a crowded car of the Tube, where a gyrating guy sparks a dance-off. When his puffed chest doesn't do the trick, a zaftig woman shows him down. Out on the streets, Madonna, now in a leather jacket and jeans, walks down an alley, paying homage to John Travolta's first scene in "Saturday Night Fever." And then we arrive at the club. Madonna and fellow club-goers lean across and over each other in slow motion, indulging in artsier Martha Grahm-style pile-ups. But then a new wave of fun washes over the video: we not only get cut to scenes of Madonna fake-humping her light-tastic stereo, we also get to see her making Dance Dance Revolution look legitimately cool. The video culminates with other clubbers surrounding DDR in all its glory, dancing collectively and then breaking out into the hustle. And everyone keeps dancing the night away.
I realize that I've now spent three paragraphs simply summarizing the content of the video, but the feats of bodily contortion and quick, short cuts kept my foot tapping all the way through; thus, doing precisely what the video aims to inject in its viewers. Even though it might be slightly creepy to think of her kids seeing the video, Madonna comes out on top not only because of her divine fitness, but because she is a lead star with restraint. The idea of self-promotion is one that taints videomaking in general, and Madonna certainly does become the primary, most-viewed icon for all that is "Hung Up." But what becomes the captivating feature of these 5.2 minutes is that she doesn't over-do it and she sticks to something that is both contemporary and spans the ages (or, at least the last 30 years).
I started thinking about whether or not I could imagine a younger pop star at the helm of the video. Pre-preggers Britney Spears was the obvious substitute. But Britney is too flashy for something this surprisingly down-to-earth, such a seemingly low-concept of a production. This is purely Madonna, but Madonna-as-sage-purveyor of youth. She and Renck strike a universal appeal by tapping into the low-key, everyman coolness of people hanging out and dancing. What's great is that it's not apparent that these individuals are members of any company; they just like dancing. This hang-out quality of the video even allows humor to make cameo appearances: the show-off getting left behind, the fishmonger using a slimy cod as a prop, and that large woman showing up a slight, overconfident homey. These quick moments certainly don't reek of Madonna's self-importance; they're just general, dorkily cute anecdotes. And along with this, Madonna throws Dance Dance Revolution and the hustle in for good measure. The fact that she can cobble together all of these seemingly disparate elements, faux-hump a stereo, and still manage to look cool indicates her mastery -- and Renck's -- of the popular appeal of the music video medium.
When I first watched "Hung Up" with my friend Genevieve, we were actually compelled to rewind the DVR back to the beginning. We wanted to see it again and imitate Madonna's many moves. She fared far better than I did; my kick-ball-change suffers from little aptitude. But it was proof-positive that this is the kind of video that makes you want to kick up your heels, perfect your Moonwalk, and watch the video all over again. It might even trick you into believing that Madonna is fifteen years younger because the video plugs into something larger than even she is. It ultimately proves that Madonna is as inventive, hip, and on top of her game as any diva could hope to be.
Artist: Madonna
Video: "Hung Up"
Album: Confessions on a Dance Floor
Director: Johan Renck
Madonna, now a 47 year-old mother of two, looks pretty fucking amazing. In this latest video, Madonna's slight transformation into a `70s disco diva registers complete. For most of it, she's clad in a shimmery pink wrap, magenta leotard, practice tights, dainty heels, and a sequined belt. And as she kicks and pirouettes--and even when she pulses her crotch while sitting propped up on the floor--there's not a wrinkle or fat-flab in sight. Though I wonder whether or not Kabballah water really is the source of youth, what makes this 5 minutes and 31 seconds of pure pleasure is not simply Madonna's age-defying anatomy. It is the age-defying pulse of the video itself. It deftly maneuvers the simple, undeniable fact that dancing is fun and that, as "Flashdance" as it might sound, dancing well is a sure sign of a youthful kind of cool.
The video begins with Madonna strolling into a darkened studio, flipping on the lights, taking off her sweats, and turning on a hefty, black, light-blinking boombox. She and her pink leotard warm up and sway to the first beats of "Hung Up." And then the tempo picks up and the momentum begins to churn. Interspersed with well-timed cuts of Madonna practicing her twinkle-toes repertoire, the supporting content of the video is a series of four energetic vignettes of other dancers -- all over the world -- who are gettin' down. And what links them together, of course, is this big, black boombox blaring Madonna's addictive single and, even more palpable in the video, the infectious power of dance.
The first is a crowd of break-dancer like dudes hanging out on the roof and stairs of a concrete housing project. These guys bounce from wall to wall, walk down steps in backbends, fashion backflips, and do all manner of impressive, urban, break-dancer-y things. They set the fast, quick-cut pace for the video. The second group is a couple of kids in South Central Los Angeles waiting at a bus stop. The blinking stereo makes its way to the bench, and ghetto-fabulous dancing commences. One young upstart pushes everyone motionless and starts strutting her stuff, down to a split. As she dances her little heart out, everyone else piles into a cab and--in a witty move-- she's left behind in disappointment. Then there's the scene with a Chinese fishmonger hanging out behind the counter. He suddenly hears the music, slaps the fish around his shoulder like a prop, and starts gettin' down. Others join, including a Catholic schoolgirl, and they, too, start synching up with the beat.
Halfway through, night begins to fall and we see our friends from South Central getting out of a typical black London taxi cab, much to their surprise. We then catch a glimpse of them South Central friends riding a crowded car of the Tube, where a gyrating guy sparks a dance-off. When his puffed chest doesn't do the trick, a zaftig woman shows him down. Out on the streets, Madonna, now in a leather jacket and jeans, walks down an alley, paying homage to John Travolta's first scene in "Saturday Night Fever." And then we arrive at the club. Madonna and fellow club-goers lean across and over each other in slow motion, indulging in artsier Martha Grahm-style pile-ups. But then a new wave of fun washes over the video: we not only get cut to scenes of Madonna fake-humping her light-tastic stereo, we also get to see her making Dance Dance Revolution look legitimately cool. The video culminates with other clubbers surrounding DDR in all its glory, dancing collectively and then breaking out into the hustle. And everyone keeps dancing the night away.
I realize that I've now spent three paragraphs simply summarizing the content of the video, but the feats of bodily contortion and quick, short cuts kept my foot tapping all the way through; thus, doing precisely what the video aims to inject in its viewers. Even though it might be slightly creepy to think of her kids seeing the video, Madonna comes out on top not only because of her divine fitness, but because she is a lead star with restraint. The idea of self-promotion is one that taints videomaking in general, and Madonna certainly does become the primary, most-viewed icon for all that is "Hung Up." But what becomes the captivating feature of these 5.2 minutes is that she doesn't over-do it and she sticks to something that is both contemporary and spans the ages (or, at least the last 30 years).
I started thinking about whether or not I could imagine a younger pop star at the helm of the video. Pre-preggers Britney Spears was the obvious substitute. But Britney is too flashy for something this surprisingly down-to-earth, such a seemingly low-concept of a production. This is purely Madonna, but Madonna-as-sage-purveyor of youth. She and Renck strike a universal appeal by tapping into the low-key, everyman coolness of people hanging out and dancing. What's great is that it's not apparent that these individuals are members of any company; they just like dancing. This hang-out quality of the video even allows humor to make cameo appearances: the show-off getting left behind, the fishmonger using a slimy cod as a prop, and that large woman showing up a slight, overconfident homey. These quick moments certainly don't reek of Madonna's self-importance; they're just general, dorkily cute anecdotes. And along with this, Madonna throws Dance Dance Revolution and the hustle in for good measure. The fact that she can cobble together all of these seemingly disparate elements, faux-hump a stereo, and still manage to look cool indicates her mastery -- and Renck's -- of the popular appeal of the music video medium.
When I first watched "Hung Up" with my friend Genevieve, we were actually compelled to rewind the DVR back to the beginning. We wanted to see it again and imitate Madonna's many moves. She fared far better than I did; my kick-ball-change suffers from little aptitude. But it was proof-positive that this is the kind of video that makes you want to kick up your heels, perfect your Moonwalk, and watch the video all over again. It might even trick you into believing that Madonna is fifteen years younger because the video plugs into something larger than even she is. It ultimately proves that Madonna is as inventive, hip, and on top of her game as any diva could hope to be.
posted by Melissa at 12:17 PM
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