by Hank Brockett
Just as the vultures turn circles a synchronized swimmer would lust for, a lone figure stands before you. Whether it's the days of malnourishment or just the dreamy haze of hope, that silhouette looks like a hero.
That is, until this silhouette steps forward, grabs for your wallet and spits in your eyes.
Forgive the frankly worrisome example. It's easy to get that way about music television when there isn't a pillow handy to yell into. Recent rumors include talk of a new music
That MTV is ripe for competition is like saying something should really be done about those holes in the roof. Over the past year the Fuse network has featured a lineup featuring more videos, mostly of the hard rock varieties. MTV2, although not really competition, suddenly has become the dumping ground for MTV Cribs episodes when there's a Real World marathon on the sister station. And VH1 ... well, they technically don't qualify as a music network any more. Showing Clay Aiken twice between the hours of 2 and 6 a.m. doesn't quite cut it.
This isn't sentimental aw-shucksism. There really haven't been any "good ol' days" to remember so fondly. A great song married to the perfect video does strange things to a person, and they're as rare as the couple that doesn't fight. Seeing (or in this case, hearing) them alone just seems out of place, as lonely as a Blind Melon Bee Girl. Together, man, it's like love in surroundsound.
Like a good song tucked inside an old mix tape, finding the good stuff has always meant waiting patiently through the commercials, bad songs and "news" updates letting us know when the next 50 Cent single drops. That there is an alternative to all this depressing work is a testament to at least one product's radiant genius.
A production company called Palm Pictures recently put out something called the Director's Label -- three DVDs chock-full of more artistry and creativity than just about anything else you can fit inside a DVD player. The selections center upon the director in a setup the French New Wave critics could only dream about when the auteur theory was as fresh as an OutKast single. And while the Chris Cunningham (freaky deaky Aphex Twin video) and Michel Gondry (Lego-fied White Stripes, big-handed Foo Fighters) sit undiscovered for another day, the Spike Jonze volume sets the enjoyability bar to near-world record levels.
It's almost as if realizing a whole day's activities were just a ruse for an elaborate surprise birthday party; is it possible that Jonze is responsible for so many indelible video moments? The hipster cool of the Beastie Boys' "Sure Shot" video ... the single-shot, slow-motion introduction to Weezer in "Undone (The Sweater Song)" ... the oddly mesmerizing sight of a techno-loving dog boy in Daft Punk's "Da Funk" ...
This says nothing of the video art form's Hall of Fame members: "Sabotage," "Buddy Holly," "Weapon of Choice" (starring Christoper Walken), Bjork's "It's Oh So Quiet." As solely a file cabinet for these images, the DVD would be enough. But the accompanying booklet and supplemental materials tap into the chickenscratch creativity on Jonze. On the commentary for It's Oh So Quiet, Bjork remembers how during the pre-production for the outlandish dance numbers, Jonze called up in breathless glee. What if we had you dance with an animated mailbox?
Jonze's involvement lies mostly in the written Q&A, leaving us all cold in wondering where such innovations can germinate. Most of the musicians just marvel at the finished product, left wondering the same. Even in hip hop, the music which so dominates the pop charts and video rotations with such similar facetime videos, Jonze adds a clever touch missing in even Missy Elliot's effects-laden shout-outs. In The Notorious B.I.G.'s "Sky's the Limit," pre-teen look-alikes for Biggie, Puffy and even Lil' Kim dress up for playtime in a playa's dreams. It's oddly unnerving and satisfyingly parodic at the same time.
But at it's heart, it's an idea, a concept and always something new. Multiple sources, though, tell of how the record label really wasn't sure about the video. Seeing the band play on stage while a pretty girl makes eyes at the lead singer certainly seems like a much surer thing. If this collection proves anything, though, it's that these gambles made waves when there were none before. Through talent and willpower, these videos show the power a memorable video can wield for a band.
In its release, however, it feels as though this chapter of Jonze's career is complete. Jonze has taken his directorial talents to the big screen, and maybe he'll stay there. If he does, it will be the music video form's loss. Without him, there's little respite from all that dour imagery. Creativity is a crutch, but it's as addictive as candy-coated cocaine. Once you've tasted one three-minute dose of the good stuff, you want more and more. Here's hoping the Jonze-inspired come quick, and that there's some airtime for our saving.