"...a dolled-up male does a posturing, strutting spoof of Jon Bon Jovi's ‘You give love a bad name' replete with blonde wig, purple lycra and cowboy boots. Simultaneously (we see) the artist from a high camera angle; rendering her small and girlish. She is playing along on a keyboard; its tinny, synth-sounds neuter and subvert the lyrics. Words such as: "No one can save me, the damage is done" are imbued with angst and pathos.There are several differences between the screens, which at first may appear dichotomous. While the male performer is cringingly confident, pushing the audience's comfort boundaries by singing directly to the camera or shaking some body part suggestively towards it, his female counterpart is coy, wistful, awkward or even bored. Her girlish voice contrasts with the testosterone-heavy ‘cock rock' song and jars with her ‘Guns and Roses' T-shirt... While the male performer moves, dances and even dominates his white space, the female seems lost within it.However there is potential for the relationship to be even more complicated—is the male representing the alter-ego she dreams of becoming herself? Or does she pine for him? Is he the object of her teenage crush? Or is he there merely for our, the audience's, amusement?"
"...a dolled-up male does a posturing, strutting spoof of Jon Bon Jovi's ‘You give love a bad name' replete with blonde wig, purple lycra and cowboy boots. Simultaneously (we see) the artist from a high camera angle; rendering her small and girlish. She is playing along on a keyboard; its tinny, synth-sounds neuter and subvert the lyrics. Words such as: "No one can save me, the damage is done" are imbued with angst and pathos.
There are several differences between the screens, which at first may appear dichotomous. While the male performer is cringingly confident, pushing the audience's comfort boundaries by singing directly to the camera or shaking some body part suggestively towards it, his female counterpart is coy, wistful, awkward or even bored. Her girlish voice contrasts with the testosterone-heavy ‘cock rock' song and jars with her ‘Guns and Roses' T-shirt... While the male performer moves, dances and even dominates his white space, the female seems lost within it.
However there is potential for the relationship to be even more complicated—is the male representing the alter-ego she dreams of becoming herself? Or does she pine for him? Is he the object of her teenage crush? Or is he there merely for our, the audience's, amusement?"
Wearing a pink leotard, the artist dances to Guns N' Roses.
Kneeling and swaying to the music, the artist appears dressed as a mermaid in a clam-shell paddling pool.
The artist, in a long red dress, shyly sings Time after Time.
The artist, crutches by her side, dances partner-less amongst the otherwise empty seats in a corner of a school disco.