More Drama
No More Drama." That seems an appropriate demand
right now, amidst the spectacles broadcasted daily
through every media channel. Drama is all we have seen
for months and may continue to see indefinitely. With Osama bin Laden clips being world-premiered like breakthrough music videos, it's clear that "drama" is the new televised aesthetic. Like everything else, music videos are also becoming more dramatic, shifting away from escapism towards a new kind of representation.
Pop culture is cyclical and thongs are worn out, so a
return to reality in music videos was to be expected.
A building backlash against teen pop and the increased
marketing of singer/songwriters have initiated new
expectations of authenticity when it comes to "keepin'
it real." Now a star has to live it, write it, perform
it, come up with its concept and then star in its
video. What goes on "behind the scenes" has become a
performance in itself. As the (fading) popularity of
"reality shows" has proven, drama has been equated
with "real life," and thus with authenticity.
Mary J. Blige's latest video, "No More Drama," is
representative of this shift. The song itself is
centered on a sample of the theme song to the Young
and the Restless, one of the most fanatically
adored daytime soap operas. It provides her song with
a haunting evocation of broken marriages, deceptive
plots, forbidden love affairs gone tragically bad, as
well as the dramas of life, death, and confusion
rolled into one sound-signified. Mary's own on-screen
journey is interwoven with three other narratives: a
battered young Black woman trying to find the courage
to leave an abusive man; a White punk junkie battling
his addiction; and a Latino man's inner struggle over
whether or not to avenge a murder. At various points,
these three characters are cut and pasted into one
image, suggesting the similarities of their struggles.
The entire video is saturated by the kind of eerie
green hue found in laundromats at night. On one hand,
this sets up the sickness Mary is feeling and on the
other, references night vision. We are voyeuristically
walking with her through a retelling of the tragedies
the video's characters have witnessed and known: the
arms bruised by repeated injections, the eyes bruised
by fists, the heart bruised by a loved one's death.
Such detailed images stand out among the music video
shows of impossible model bodies and choreographed
dances.
Mary is certainly not immune to industry trends:
remember her kneepads in "Real Love." Before the "war
on terrorism" was constructed, her hot single was
"Family Affair." It was another tired but catchy club
song about getting "crunk" and "percolating" on the
dance floor, while warning the "haters" to stay
outside. Despite its singsong dullness, Dr. Dre's
undeniable beat made it an instant hit. The video
images were awkward and cloned, and the rigid
choreography, well, it just didn't fit Mary. When
performing live in concert, her presence, defined by
her freeform emoting, is unmistakable. By comparison,
the slick moves in "Family Affair" feel too forced and
calculated.
"No More Drama," is more representative of her
familiar persona, as developed with hits like "Not
Gon' Cry." Mary has stepped out of the club, at least
as far as music videos can get. Yet, she's not the
first artist of late to turn back to the real of "keep
it real," the first commandment in the rulebook of
urban representation. Just look at the raw, honest,
political take on identity and representation (or lack
thereof) of American history in DMX's video, "Who We
Be." Images of X in prison are mixed with the hoses,
dogs, picket signs, sit-ins, and other emblems of U.S.
racial violence. Fragments of his lyrics, which appear
typed and mangled on the screen, reference a cover up
or distortion of history.
DMX is screaming for it to be uncovered, for the kids
of TRL to see. At first glance, the "we" in
"Who We Be" may not be the White suburban kids who
compose the show's predominant viewing population. But
the video is not racially exclusive. White people are
shown sitting-in with Black people and at the end of
the video, when children take turns declaring, "I am
DMX," the "we" grows to include all those who do
"know," regardless of race. Now that Nike's "I am
Tiger Woods" media campaign is finally over, DMX has
appropriated the slogan for himself. A legion of DMX's
is far more threatening and inclusive specter, one
that is necessary and overdue.
Mary's new video offers a similarly inclusive vision,
or three similar visions, each of a different class,
background, and race shown as one interwoven story.
Although these images are stereotyped, there is
something to be said for the acknowledgment and
representation of Black, White, and Latino characters
having similar and interrelated struggles. Still,
there seems to be one missing: Afghani and Arab
Americans. The video could easily have shown the pig's
blood thrown at mosques and murders by racist
vigilantes, but it conveniently leaves this struggle
out.
However, the new "war on terrorism" is referenced in
the final scenes of "No More Drama," where Mary is
convulsing in her trademark manic expressiveness,
pleading to a bank of television monitors in a
storefront window. We see images of the U.S. war on
these monitors, as well as Mariah Carey and P. Diddy,
two of the many stars whose personal crises have been
publicized. Mary's finger seems to come through the
television, scolding us. Tears roll down her face and
she shakes her head in contempt, renouncing all the
drama in the new world.
This rejection comes amid a climate where Enrique
Iglesias' "Hero" seems to be what people want to hear
(just look at the Jeep Liberty commercials). From
Blink 182's solemn "Stay Together For The Kids," to
U2's "Caught In A Moment," to Jagged Edge's video for
"Goodbye," which tells a story of a young military
family man going off to war, bands are releasing
videos designed to sell in a sobered market. Videos
like Suzanne Vega's "Luca" and Babyface and Stevie
Wonder's "How Come How Long," were once astonishing
exceptions, but now they may come to be the rule. And
that could become a problem. Just watch "What's Going
On," the video featuring a who's who in the pop world
and vile appropriation of political imagery. Political
sloganeers need to find a new line of work; the
Backstreet Boys just negated it.
It is interesting to see this shift to such somber
subject matter, after the long tyranny of the Ass.
Still, music videos, like any facet of popular
culture, cannot become overly representational, for
that would be veering away from accessible
entertainment. Videos will always showcase spectacle,
but their content changes in response to demand. For
now, it appears the trend towards serious social or
political narrative in music videos is an invitation
to more theatrical drama, not less. "America's New
War," like the O.J. Simpson case before it, is another
form of a soap opera. It is a 24-hour reality show, as
dramatized as it gets. But if drama has become today's
normalized aesthetic, its over-saturation may lead to
another need for escape. Same theater, different
spectacles. Mary J. Blige's demand -- "No More Drama"
-- is as problematic as it is appropriate, but the
dramatic images of Mary and DMX screaming for change
have a haunting effect in America's New Context.
