A completely accurate and not at all surreal depiction of how hit records are made, from inspiration to distribution to promotion. It's a hell of a ride, until the world finds out the song was stolen from a pop band in Manila.
PS: I'm not sure how Michael "brother of Steve" Buscemi fits into the overall plot, but he's fantastic nonetheless.
Director Alex Amoling delivers a stately and disturbing video that would befit the darkest "done me wrong" murder ballad where everyone winds up a victim.
If Rocky was a Brooklyn hipster, the training would be lackadaisical, the opponent would be a girl, and it would all just be a metaphor for a relationship on the ropes.
The backwards faces, the bodies dangling from the water tower, and blood everywhere: On knuckles, in a stream and bursting from a mysterious pomeranate seed. A child tries to pay it no mind, but eventually he has to confront his future as a mess on the verge of drinking and dosing himself to death.
