Pop Screen: Li'l Kim, My Chemical Romance, Interpol

Li’l Kim

“Lighters Up”

Methinks the lady doth protest too much!

Well, in case you haven’t heard, Li’l Kim is going to Li’l prison for lying about her posse’s involvement in a Li’l shootout between her Li’l band of ne’er-do-wells and that of fellow raunchtastic hip-hop diva Foxy Brown. She lied under oath, and now she’s serving mad time! But that hasn’t stopped her from making a mediocre video for her new album’s dancehall-tinged lead single.

Its main purpose seems to be to remind us that even though her reputation is in question, she still has that strange commodity known as “street cred.” The video is pretty terrible. When you see a Li’l Kim video, you usually want to see some mammary glands and some groin-pulling. Some suggestive winking, at the very least.

But no, all you get in this little piece is various shots of a fully-clothed Kim dancing around her habitat of Brooklyn, talking about how great it is and how people shouldn’t spread rumors about her. But she already admitted that she lied under oath! Ergo, it’s not a rumor! You are a fool, Li’l Kim!

Perhaps the strangest part of the video is its absurd abstraction of the titular call-out for immolation. Lots and lots of people put their cigarette lighters up to show support for Kim’s flaunting of the judicial system, but there are also an alarming number of shots of people shooting flame-throwers. In my kind of Li’l Kim video, that would be a sexual metaphor. Here, it’s just silly. You’re silly, Li’l Kim! Go to jail! Do not pass go! Do make sexier videos!

—Abe J. Riesman My Chemical Romance

“The Ghost of You”

You know, “Saving Private Ryan” was a pretty good movie, but it would have really packed an emotional punch if the Normandy beach scenes were backed by whiny, overblown emo-rock about “All the things that you never ever told me/And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me.”

That’s the warped logic behind My Chemical Romance’s latest outing, “The Ghost of You.” In the video, the band is alternately performing at a USO dance and forming the First Emo Division (who went down in history for their valiant efforts in pouting the enemy to death) on D-Day.

The USO portion features plenty of longing glances and amazing ’40s hairdos from the women, histrionic arm and head gestures from lead singer Gerard Way that aim for “intense” but end up falling somewhere closer to “hilarious,” and–oh God–occasional camera blurring as if the band is being seen through tears. I sincerely hope I’m wrong about the meaning of that last one.

The battle scenes could be taken from any World War II film of the last 20 years. In fact, the only thing that makes me sure they weren’t is that in most war films, none of the soldiers are singing nasally at the back of someone’s helmet.

Exactly one moment in the video really works: for about a second, the two parts collide, as the ballroom floods and soldiers run amongst the dancers. Then it cuts back to the battlefield and repeats the same battle-dance-longing-gaze-close-up-of-a-band-member sequence for the next two minutes, earnestly informing me that war and loss really, really suck.

By trying to imbue such a colossal subject with overproduced emotion, My Chemical Romance achieves the near-impossible: they make World War II seem trite.

—Lisa J. Bloomberg Interpol

“C’Mere”

“C’Mere” is far too inclusive a title for Interpol’s video of the third “Antics” single. In the final shots, the band erupts into animated flames, burning in their own tragically hip musical finale. All this plus some nifty whimsical creatures that are born with the music, and frolic for a good half of the video. But I digress.

The video begins unassumingly in a tiny cabin sequestered in the snowy woods. Inside are our musicians, escaping from the world, the audience, and their stardom. The camera peers into their cabin—as Thoreau as it is fairytale—reminding us that Interpol needs no audience. The band members appear through the slats in the cabin walls and then disappear behind soft focus. We look in on a private session.

The intimacy and mystery of their hideaway provides a good platform for the forest creatures that emerge. As the music builds, the creatures blossom. A romp through the woods leads to some stark, intriguing visuals, and nice special effects as the sprites envelop the cabin in their hair (magical fire locks?).

While the aforementioned finale is overwhelmingly self-righteous, the hideaway is well-executed. Shots of the cabin from the outside suggests that it is smaller than the sum of its parts—almost too small to fit a drum set, let alone the whole group that we see in interior shots. The video reduces the band down to its music, stripping away their individual personas. It distills Interpol to musical imagination, burning away the rock stars behind the album.

—Eve A. Lebwohl