Rihanna is the universal pop star. She lives in the upper echelon of fame, that mostly vacated space once occupied by untouchable stars like Elton John and Jimmy Page. The old icons were backed by wheelbarrows of LP and concert ticket dough and were not necessarily expected to engage with masses such as human beings. Before the turn of the century, there were a ton of arena-packing musicians who must have seemed like Norse gods or aliens from the back rows.
Though the stars were actually complex human beings like the rest of us, our parents' need to live vicariously through them made sure that labels helped create and maintain simple plotlines. Thus, the Rolling Stones were the tough guy's cure for the Beatles. Madonna was the living embodiment of post-puritanical feminism. Michael Jackson sure as hell didn't knock up that Billie Jean lady (obviously).
Today, every artist has a narrative, but the once ubiquitous, simple emotional distance rarely manifests in the stardom. Of course, this is the exception for for any but a handful of massive major label acts. Members of this select group (Ke$ha, latter-day Eminem, Gaga, etc) lack the humble approachability that even the most well-known "indie" bands wave like a white flag.
The labels and artists purposefully paint their public personas with broad strokes. Highly archetypal, but vaguely realized, narratives appear, traced by the complex dialogue between officially concocted copy and accidentally leaked paparazzi fodder.
Rihanna and her handlers do pop superstardom the right way, keeping the themes big and blunt so that a hundred million cheerleaders and accountants can see their own lives reflected back at them. She tops if off by consistently cutting critically beloved singles backed by hugely confident and stunning videos.
Rihanna's most recent video "We Found Love" exists in a tradition of druggy, impressionistic cinematic swirl exemplified by Terry Gilliam's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." In the video, Rihanna plays a strung-out, radiant firecracker clearly in love with her temperamental boyfriend.
The couple spends length of the video in all sorts of strange and wonderful situations. The girl ascends a table for a joyously unprofessional dance at an anonymous fast food dive. The guy drives doughnuts in an empty parking lot. The two lovers embrace and tumble through a surreal, pastoral daylight rave. They cavort in skate parks, casinos, supermarkets and, most prominently, their Christmas light-spangled apartment bedroom. They are always together.
Buoyed by the euphoric dance beat written by Scottish DJ Calvin Harris, the video depicts its two characters in a drug and love-fueled reality-distortion field. The director inserts frequent shots of assorted pills, dilating pupils and psychedelic color distortions. At one point, the girl lights what look like roughly 20 joints in her companion's mouth. At another point, the girl spits up long, brightly colored and immaculate ribbons.
Even when the video takes a turn for the worse, the chaos of their disintegrating relationship seems like dangerous fun. Sure, the girl passes out on the street. Sure, the couple screams and yells and scratches at one another. All the while, the glorious colors fly by and the pounding beat refuses to relent. Even a potentially unnerving scene in which the guy tattoos "Mine" on the girl over ambiguous cries of protest or pain fails to make a dent in the video's ecstatic atmosphere.
Ultimately, the two characters in the "We Found Love" video are fictional and elusively sketched. Much of the emotional connection one will form with their situation will inevitably reference Rihanna's sad history with Chris Brown, especially considering the love and loss opening monologue. Brown's violent assault on Rihanna in 2009 has become perhaps the single most prominent factor in Rihanna's public narrative. Honestly, as a casual fan and reluctant observer of mainstream pop culture gossip, I'd be hard pressed to provide a single additional bit of biographical information on the young woman.
Though I recognize the crass nature of the suggestion, I'd argue that the assault has lent direction and purpose to an otherwise bland public persona. After the incident, Rihanna took exactly two albums to elegantly transition from victimhood to self-doubt to strength. Her image as "the survivor" colors all of her work, including the curiously relevant "We Found Love" video.
I have no doubt that a lot of the narrative accurately reflects Rihanna's personal growth over the last few years. I also have no doubt that her personal growth made her and a lot of Island Group executives a whole lot of money. "We Found Love" could be construed as a label or an artist cynically milking a predictable source of artistic legitimacy and cash. Authentic or calculated, it's a great video.
Got an opinion about Rihanna's work (or her relationships?) Send Alex your thoughts at seraphin@wisc.edu.
