A special breed of artist, the music video director fancies himself one day a real film director. This of course, will never happen unless someone writes a movie about a ratty-looking guitarist breaking up with his supermodel girlfriend in the desert, while chicas in matching thongs choreograph the breakup in a New York City back alley.
We hate you, video directors, because you all use the same video effects, the same yawnful slow motion pans across teary-eyed waifs and men with 5:00 shadow.
No, we are neither enticed nor fooled by the tiny, red REC icon flashing on the video. We don’t feel like we’re the director when you do that. It’s trite and it’s tired. Run along.
We are similarly confused by your constant use of dancers. If the song is about the Chernobyl disaster, it really doesn’t need Latinas in hot-pants acting it out. If it’s about getting nasty, then by all means, add the tramps and remove their clothes.