4 Kinds of Great Music Videos

When I was a boy, the concept of a music video was completely foreign to me. I was dimly aware they existed on MTV but such programming never made it into my house. Then one fateful day in a hotel room on vacation with my cousins, I was finally introduced to the wonders of Rob Thomas getting hit by a car during the video for Bent and Scott Stapp walking Meaningfully between falling meteorites with his arms wide open during the video for With Arms Wide Open.  Oh yeah.  The experience was magical.  It was not until much later when music videos became available for viewing on youtube that the magic began to fade and I began to discover one of the most colossal wastes of money imaginable in the entertainment industry.

What boggles me about music videos is that 90% of them are terrible. I don't mean to be too negative here, but this is a serious problem. You've seen plenty of music videos like this, right? The lead singer emotes at the camera. People around them dance. Don't forget to include a model who is almost acting and/or almost wearing clothes. Concoct some sort of story loosely connected with the song, edit it like a Jason Bourne movie and there you go. A gargantuan amount of money has been spent over the years on producing short form films that are not worth watching twice, if they're worth watching at all.

But every once in a while, a music video can be pure gold. When done well, a music video not only entertains but actually enhances the lyric and sound of a song. It can add new depth and insight. Or it can be innovative in its use of dance, physical performance, animation, or it could just blow your mind with cool-lookin' stuff. Here are four categories of music video that tend to leave the mind at least a little blown.

1. The One-Take Wonder

This approach to music-video-making is almost guaranteed to be a cut above the rest, mostly because an elaborately staged one-take film like this requires a great deal of fore-thought, planning, rehearsal and originality. OK Go has done quite a few of these but none so epic and Guinness-worthy as Needing/Getting. Check it out below along with Jack Johnson's reverse spin on this process. Also, if you're in the mood for more of these, check out a couple fun ones from Feist and Ingrid Michaelson.

2. The Dance Revolution

Music and dance are the fraternal twins of art. And the only thing better than getting your own groove on to your favorite jam is watching someone else do it way better than you (that's how I feel anyway). Michael Jackson's Thriller is the seminal example of a music video that entertains with innovative dance, but I also like the following examples from Janelle Monae and Fatboy Slim.

3. The Visual Masterpiece

Steering away from more mainstream pop and into the realm of indie and alternative, the appeal of music is often in unique sounds, timbres, textures, and instrumentation. One of my favorite approaches to music videos involves taking those unique sound ideas and combining them with creative, artful visuals, as in the Niki & the Dove example below. Another similar approach is to use innovative animation or film techniques to create something that presents you with a nonstop series of wows, like the wonderful video for Coldplay's Strawberry Swing.

4. The Plot Thickener

My personal favorite approach is when the video tells a story that expands upon the themes of the song. I've seen a lot of story videos that depict the lyric of the song literally and, to me, that's like painting a picture of an apple and writing the word Apple on it. It might not be bad, but it's not very moving. What's better is to strip the song down to its basic themes and expand on them. Take The Only Exception, by Paramore. Essentially the lyric of the song gives us the history of Hayley's love life, beginning with her parents' divorce, meandering through years of self-imposed loneliness and safety, then ending with the ability of one man (the only exception) to make the risk finally worth it. The video, rather than telling a linear story like that, uses a sitcom-style set to give us an abstract representation of Hayley's compartmentalized mind. I love the beautiful ending in which her man has benignly infiltrated every safe and lonely place in her head and we return to reality. Very well done.

I also love the Kimbra video below for its combination of unique dance style, symbolic storytelling, and interesting visuals (kids playing house rather convincingly with a mannequin man who's not really a mannequin. And who doesn't like to watch things light on fire, right?). Both the Kimbra and the Paramore examples also do a great job of accompanying the narrative structure and flow of the song. Great songs often have a big climactic hit as the bridge falls back into the final chorus and whether the set bursts into flames or a blinding light shines through the doorway or the Foo Fighters do this thing, it's a satisfying moment when the music video follows suit.

I want more of this stuff. I wish the music industry would invest a little more in making their music videos live up to the potential of the medium, rather than making shallow fluff. I guess that's also what I want from Hollywood, music itself, and the world in general so there you go. Hit me up in the comments below. Please share with me your favorite music videos and why you love them.

Soul and Soldier: The Rebirth of Brandon Flowers

I am not usually one to follow the personal lives of celebrities. If the existence of tabloids is any indication, we humans have some sort of need for role models--a need to exalt people, scrutinize them, judge them, celebrate them, and condemn them. And, yeah, I was disappointed when Christian Bale was so mean to that one guy on a movie set and I was pleased when Christian Bale showed up discretely at that hospital in Aurora to comfort the shooting victims. But I try to avoid expecting great artists to be great people. As a Mormon, I cannot rationally expect musicians, movie stars, authors, etc. to uphold the same values I do.

However, there is the occasional success story that just makes me proud of certain people. In this case, I want to take you on a little journey through a few years in the life of Brandon Flowers, lead singer of the Killers.


2004. The Killers release their debut album Hot Fuss through British indie label Lizard King Records. They're a hip new rock band. They've got several hit singles. They've got scantily clad babes in their music videos. You know, the usual. Track 5 on the album becomes a popular radio hit, and is reportedly written by Flowers alone. Consider these lyrics:

"I got soul but I'm not a soldier"

Such catchy assonance and alliteration repeated abundantly by a gospel choir = winning hook. But let's look deeper. Around this time, I heard through the grapevine that Brandon Flowers was a Mormon. A famous Mormon? That's always good news, right? Maybe not this time. This is an exchange from Spin Magazine from November of that year:


Spin: (We) once described you as an ex-Mormon. Is religion important in your life?

Flowers: It's very important. I mean, it's important in everyone's life. Basic religion is the reason we have morals. I am actually a Mormon, not an ex-Mormon. I occasionally drink and smoke, but I'm trying-I'm human.


So in 2004 he's a Mormon but not quite the shining example we might have hoped.  If the story ended there it would be an unremarkable, common tale. A young LDS person joins a rock band, dabbles in the rock and roll lifestyle but still believes the church is good. He's got soul or, in other words, he feels the goodness of the gospel and feels regret when he doesn't live up to it, but he's not a soldier. He's not fighting the good fight and following orders from the commander. To me, these lyrics aren't just catchy; they're insightful into the state of mind of a lot of wishy-washy-Mormon celebrities such as Amy Adams, Aaron Eckhart, and Will Swenson. Soul, yes; soldiers, no.

What is remarkable to me is that the story takes a dramatic turn not too many years later when Brandon and his childhood sweetheart/now wife Tana celebrate the birth of their first child Ammon. Let's get something straight. Ammon is a soldier's name, not just a name with soul.

Now let's jump to 2012. Brandon Flowers is a family man. He and Tana now have three kids, and from what Tana has to say about him, he's a very faithful husband and very active in church.  Now contrast that Spin Magazine article from 2004 with this lively debate on Norwegian TV:

He's not just bearing his testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon; he's putting the naysayer in his place.  And, I might add, he's doing an admirable job at keeping his cool in a rather intense situation.   In 2012, Brandon Flowers is such a good example of family life and church service, he's even featured on Mormon.org. No matter how many times he will yet sing that lyric, Brandon knows...he's a soldier.

Now here are some lyrics from his 2010 solo album Flamingo:

Tell the Devil that he can go back from where he came

His fiery arrows drew their bead in vain

And when when the hardest part is over, we'll be here

And our dreams will break the boundaries of our fear

Now, once again I feel the need to voice some caution in regard to celebrity role models. Brandon could slip up. As could I. As could you. But as I look back at these past few years I feel so proud of Brandon Flowers for the great public figure and good example that he has become. And what was the catalyst for this change? I believe it was having children and the responsibility that entails. When you get right down to it, that's the missing ingredient in our western society and culture today: responsibility, accountability, commitment. If we could all set aside our feelings of entitlement and take up the mantle of responsibility, I believe many of our social problems would be largely reduced. When you hold yourself accountable to a family and accountable to God, you just behave differently. We need more famous artists infusing these values back into society. We need soul. And we need soldiers.

Movie Review: Warm Bodies

You might not think that a zombie flick would make the perfect Valentine's weekend date but in this case you'd be surprisingly wrong. In Warm Bodies, director Jonathan Levine gives us as light-hearted and romantic a zombie movie as mankind is most-likely capable of making.

Meet R (Nicholas Hoult), a shuffling reanimated corpse living at an airport in the aftermath of the zombie apocalypse. He is a zombie of few words but many thoughts and as he meanders aimlessly amongst hundreds of other zombies, we hear his inner monologue. R (he can't remember the rest of his name) has recently been feeling the need to connect more with people. He has almost-conversations with a sort of zombie best friend and vaguely wishes there were more to life than eating brains.  He tries to imagine what kind of life each zombie around him led before they were infected.  He knows, however, that it's only a matter of time before he's so far gone that he starts eating his own flesh and becomes a creepy skeleton creature. In the tragically limited zombie vernacular, these things are called Bonies.

Elsewhere, meet Julie (Teresa Palmer), a real live girl in a walled-off section of the city. Her father is the military leader of the rag tag human survivors and one day he sends her on a supply run outside the walls. Leading zombie and leading lady meet when R's shuffling horde attacks Julie's machine-gun wielding young friends. During the ensuing deadly struggle, Julie catches R's eye. Something about the way her hair falls as she blows the head off his fellow zombies stops his already-stopped heart. Ah, young love. Somehow, R manages to save Julie from the fray and convince her he's not going to eat her. He takes her to his zombie hideout on an abandoned 747 and promises to keep her safe. As they bond, it doesn't take long for them to realize that R is becoming less dead and soon the effect begins to spread to the other infected zombies.

There's a lot to like here. Between R's hilarious narration and the well-executed humor of zombies trying to act like living people, I laughed plenty. R and Julie are likable, relatable protagonists. Rob Corddry and Analeigh Tipton as R's and Julie's respective best friends bring a lot of heart and humor to the story. Julie's father's character arc may have felt a little rushed, and the Bonies' unconvincing motion was a little distracting, but these complaints are easily forgivable in the midst of so much good fun. I should also mention that, while there is some obligatory zombie gore, it's about as family friendly as zombie gore can be.

Essentially we're dealing with a classic star-crossed lovers' tale mixed with an Awkward Boy Wins Over Confident Girl story. But what really makes the film work so well is that it isn't just a story about a zombie falling in love with a non-zombie girl; it's a story about humanity learning to forgive itself and heal in the face of tragedy and violence. The film's conclusion is beautiful. There is an iconic image at the end of the movie that gave me a rush of hope for our troubled world and that alone made Warm Bodies one of my favorite moviegoing experiences of the past year.

Grade: A
Rating: PG-13 for language, some zombie gore

Reboots vs. Sequels

Over the holidays, I was treated by my very kind and generous aunt and uncle to a matinee of the first installment of the Hobbit trilogy.  I was also treated to an enormous tub of popcorn, far larger than I would ever be able to justify buying for myself.  I knew I was in trouble when it was thrust lovingly into my arms, but I was also naturally excited for some over-indulgence.  However, as the very entertaining film wore on, I realized I was being treated to much more over-indulgence than I had, at first, realized.  The Hobbit part 1 is a very fun and nostalgic return to Peter Jackson's Middle Earth, but in many ways it felt a lot like my stomach after ingesting that tub of popcorn: bloated and over-stuffed.

You see, I look at the LOTR trilogy like a crescendo symbol.

The Fellowship of the Ring presented a very intimate tale of relatively few characters.  The scope of the story felt grand but it proved to be rather small compared to the behemoth that was to come, like the left side of that crescendo mark.  Two films later, the story had exploded onto a never-before-imagined scale.  Armies of hundreds of thousands of orcs crowded around office-building-sized elephants and stormed a giant CGI city, etc.  Don't get me wrong.  I love that whole trilogy dearly.  But, to me, the Hobbit should have been further back along that crescendo, more intimate and simple than the Fellowship of the Ring, not blown up beyond the scale of the Return of the King.

Alas, that's the nature of the Hollywood movie Franchise.  The name of the game is "Outdo Yourself."  It begins when a successful film (usually based off some previously existing fiction) proves to be a seemingly limitless diamond mine.  Then the screenwriters begin the long process of milking the cash cow for every conceivable story and special effect, constantly inflating a giant balloon of characters and subplots and such until it bursts.  Hollywood used to favor the trilogy (The Matrix, Spider-Man) but they have since left that idea behind, choosing instead to let their franchises grow and churn out sequels and prequels (Pirates of the Carribbean, the Bourne Whathaveyou) until they sputter and die and a reboot is necessary.

Ah, the reboot.  In the mid 1990s I used to watch a CGI cartoon show called Reboot.  I will not be writing about it.  However, that was how I first learned the term "reboot."  Since then it has come to be a very dear term to me.  It brings to my mind fond memories of such films as Batman Begins, Casino Royale, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and J.J. Abrams' Star Trek.  In a reboot, the now-deflated balloon is thrown away and the series dramatically returns to the core themes of the source material.  A new director is called in.  New breath is drawn.  This is almost always a very good business move resulting in a very good film.  Why is that?  I believe one reason is that before the screenplay is even written the producers discuss the question "what made this popular in the first place?" rather than "where else could we take this?"  They take it home and home is good.  George Clooney's nipple-suit is tossed out in favor of a functional Kevlar suit of armor.  James Bond stops making puns and ridiculous gadgets and starts having real relationships with people.

In a way, the concept of a reboot is more like what happens in theater.  You can see ten different productions of Les Mis and you'll always have your favorites but you'll also always be interested in seeing how the latest production interprets the source material.  I would rather see more of that in film.

In The Hobbit, I was more interested in the beginnings of the Bilbo-Gandalf friendship than I was in the Pale Orc and I got way more Pale Orc than Bilbo-Gandalf.  I think Hollywood producers and everyday moviegoers would both be better served if we had fewer sequels and more reboots.  If more directors rotated in and out of the chair for a single franchise (as they did in Harry Potter) I think the audience would enjoy more of the soul of the characters, more of the central themes of stories, and better movies in general.

Granted there are exceptions.  Sometimes a good sequel like the Empire Strikes Back or Spider-Man 2 or the Dark Knight can knock it out of the park.  But more often than not, I think the small size tub of popcorn is plenty.  Let's get back to the heart of these stories.