1999: directed by Thomas Vinterberg
"The likely lads
Are picking up the uglies
Yesterday they were just puppies..."
The screen is split into four frames. In the top left, Dave comes on. Dave is heading at top speed for middle age. "I'm nervous," he confesses. Top right, Graham scratches his head and leans his chin on his palm. "I'm feeling very vulnerable," he says. Somehow, this simple statement becomes very sensual, but that's the magic of Graham's speaking voice at work. Bottom right, Alex still isn't washing his hair, and he holds a white cup. "I'm not nervous," he claims, but then falls silent and gets a worried look on his face. Bottom left, Damon Albarn has never looked worse in his life. "We're making a video," he explains. "It involves sleep," says Graham. They all desperately need it, by the looks of them.
Close up, full screen, all Damon. It's cruel and unforgiving. He looks like he hasn't slept since 1996, he hasn't washed his face or his hair, or shaved, for days. His eyes are nearly closed and he's got a vague smile on his face. Alas poor Damon. Alas. "Real sleep," he mumbles, like he's forgotten what that means. In the bottom right corner, Alex slams down a drink before bedtime. Out of respect for Alex James, the Author will not dare to conjecture about what's in the sports bottle.
In the four-screen again, the lads each put on what looks like a combination diving and VR goggle. These are what the crew will be wearing while they film the video. "They're just going to sneak around, filming," Dave says, obviously tickled by the concept. He probably designed the damn things. "I'm looking forward to seeing how my hair winds up in the state that it does," Damon says. So are we. "It's very private, very intimate," Dave counters. Something about the way Dave says this makes it feel a bit naughty. Look how much they give us. Next video will be someone's surgery.
"I mean, we've no control," says Alex, showing the strain a little. Graham cleans his teeth with an electric toothbrush. Damon does it the old-fashioned way. "I wonder if I'll dream tonight," Graham says, biting his nails. "I never remember them."
"What's the time now?" asks Damon. "A quarter to one," is an off-camera response from someone. Damon nods. "I think it's time for bed," he says, grinning ruefully. You know things are rough when a pop star thinks that a quarter to one is time for bed.
Lights go off.
Random blobs of faint light trace their way through their homes. Are these the actual insides of actual Blur homes? That would be intimate. (late author's note: they are real Blur homes. Who's got the padded stairs? Graham needs them most methinks)The first victim is Damon, quite dead to the world, but still wearing his gold necklace. He breathes very deeply. Alex, wearing black pajamas, is a pillow-hugger. Graham pulls the covers all the way up to his ears. Dave wears white jammies, since he's one of the good guys, and his bed has a tag on one of the posts that says "Please leave me alone". Fingers twitch. Feet come out the bottom and scratch each other. Damon's pushed the covers down to his waist and he's not sleeping in anything. Is it wrong to be titillated? Graham rubs his eyes with his thumbs. Alex has a bad smoker's cough even in his sleep. Damon rubs his face extensively, then he moves his hand down under the covers, and... psych, he pulls the covers up. If he was engaged in any, ahem, self-exploration, it remains on the cutting room floor.
Oh GOD it's sad.
And then it's morning.
"Damon? Damon?" the director calls gently. Alex is on top of
the covers entirely. Graham squints in disbelief, ready to
unleash a hail of invective, then remembers that there are
cameras, and he gets it and smiles. They let Dave sleep in,
as evidenced by the fourth square that remains dark. No
wonder he's so well-adjusted. The director immediately asks
Damon, long before he's really awake, to explain the song.
Damon rubs his mouth and
yawns for about ten minutes, then slips back into
microsleep. "It's definitely a sad song," is the best he can
come up with. He has another microsleep, then says with
frightening authority, "It's a warning." I'll say it is. The best thing to do at this
point, once you've stopped sobbing and telling your friends
that You Really Love Them, Man, is to just sit there and
wait until "She's
So High" begins to
play again, so you can see Blur when they were so, so young
and untrampled by the brutality of 3862 days of
fame.
CUTE FACTOR:cute in a pathetic sad way.
VIDEO QUALITY:it's a really cool concept, and very daring on their
parts. But why?!
FUCKED UP FACTOR:all of them look like they'll die if they don't get
some sleep soon. If it was evening Alex had undoubtedly been
drinking.
OVERALL GRADE: B-