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MAdonna’s new video is called Confessions II because it is the follow-up to her album Confessions on the Dance Floor, which was released in 2005. No, wrong: it was not more than 20 years ago. That was last week. Age is for young people. Madonna he can stop the passage of time with the power of his mind, and this has always been true. But, exactly, in the 10-minute video that brought the house at the Tribeca festival and was viewed more than a million times on YouTube, is Madonna trying to say? It’s rude to ask, like asking Jackson Pollock what all those lines mean. So think of it as honoring the woman who started the scandal.
A chair
It’s a very classic look: satin corset, pointy stilettos, praying-mantis body, hair. The seat, however, is difficult; she does not bestride it in a coquettish, Christine Keeler way, or straight as a woman in control. His attitude is, in fact, “Ask me anything” – an impossible openness. But don’t ask me anything boring, I still wore a corset.
Lasers
The movie Confessions II is already running with a “vagina laser video”, similar to Vogue video came up with “pointy tits” (after the Jean Paul Gaultier bra, it took on the 40s bullet point, which sewing difficulties wanted to lead, inexorably, to nipples, and yet which – at the time Madonna was immortalized it – did not remind you of nipples in any way. You can hide nine nipples still thinking of many military hardware).
These green lights shoot from the outside of everyone’s genitals and sometimes the buttocks are there to represent life force and unstoppable energy. The power is in the desire, not in the desire though, inevitably, the first carries the second as its consequence.
The airbag
Due to some difficult changes between the car inside and the table, it is not clear if Madonna is the driver, the passenger or is on top of the car, to scare the occupants, but one way or the other, this causes the car to crash, while someone – shown with beauty, a bit 80s, a red bow of lipstick – snogs the airbag. It doesn’t matter who. It’s reminiscent of Daniel Bergner’s book about the omnivorous female libido, What Do Women Want? So you can read the book, or you can take the short answer. They want everything. They will damage your car and take off with your airbag. Honestly, it’s probably his car.
The ultimate poppet of bubblegum modernity, Carpenter seems to be giving off his own vibe. He’s not mini-me or 2.0: that would be ugly. However, the choreography and camera angles create ambiguity. You often don’t know who you’re looking at, especially when Julia Garner walks in, looking like Madonna in her Marilyn days. Emphasis is not the word that sticks are passed down through the generations of women; it’s about the metaphysics of clubbing, strobe-lit disorientation, joy. “Who am I really looking at?
Making up her lips, looking decidedly like her, the arrival of the supermodel coincides with the line “Hide the cocaine”, although it is not clear whether she is hiding it or an invisible narrator is hiding it for her. That’s because it doesn’t matter and it’s none of your business.
Odessa A’Zion
Odessa sports a dark, layered, super-cool look: she looks like a Z type who would call a millennial to “pick me”, then the Millennials have to go look up what that means, and reply, “Well, yes, I want everyone to pick me; how about that?” It’s a continuation of the theme of a thousand petals. There is room in this type of society for everyone to be a little different.
Toilets
A line of men innocently try to use the urine when a group of women come and destroy hell in them with disgusting behavior and body pain, then some men shoot in the cubicles, while everywhere else the women are also shaking, and admiring themselves, and admiring each other, and sometimes just walking, and sometimes walking around, and sometimes you can focus. tell them who’s female and who’s not, and nowhere in this public park is there anything to indicate that it’s unisex or not, and it can be difficult to navigate the politics of this, except to say: don’t you want your toilet to be as hot as mine?
You wouldn’t expect to run into Christie in a Madonna movie; the actor looks clean and more Glyndeborne more than anyone else, he vaudeville-surprised by the cubicle antics, but still plays as a distraction to the classic message of the competition, where you put a prim woman in the event of a bucket to lampoon him. No one is mocking Brienne of Tarth; he is completely part of a living, breathing organism. It has a social nature, this film.
It’s hard to tell if she looks awkward because she got dressed thinking she’d show off a very expensive two-bedroom family, but she found Madonna would grab her jaw in her long blue dress and force her to dance; or if he seems difficult because that is the information. And that, friends, is what they call it to do.
The camerawomen, gimp masks, and babies and bananas
We close with the camerapeople to finish – futuristic masks, lamp rings, G-strings, many stilettos, everywhere caught – it looks a little robot dystopia, a little OnlyFans, a lot of gear changes. Drinking champagne is very pornographic but cigarettes are seen as regular, fun smoking. One artist does not have a mask and it is Lourdes, because Madonna’s daughter should be in it. Don’t be stupid. Everyone is in it. He uses his fatigue as a weapon, ending the film with the judge: “Cut, bite.”
As soon as it’s over, they all start eating bananas, which sounds like a show, but I think it’s the universal language of parents, that when your child has a big problem, you give him a banana.
