In a club bathroom. Mike Posner rolls a pill around with his thumb in his hand. He puts his mouth under the sink and runs the water, letting the water into his throat. Then, he swallows the pill.
He exclaims “whoa!” and then examines his hand. He makes whooping noises to an invisible crowd while clenching and unclenching his fists. In the mirror, he sees that his head has grown several sizes and is made of papier-mâché. He notices the difference and then touches his mouth and his neck, noting that he “looks crazy.” Actually, he looks like he would scare little kids away from piñatas for life.
(passing through the decorations aisle at the grocery store)
Mom: Wow! Look at the pretty decorations. Isn’t the Minion piñata cool?
Little Kid: AAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Mom: But you love the Minions
Little Kid: AAAHHHHHHHH! It’s staring at me!
I’m an adult and I want to hide behind my Mommy, telling it to go away.
With a frozen, wide smile, he stands still in the center of the candy red lit club as people around him dance. The camera pans in the detail of the papier-mâché.head, with its hollow eyes and cracked teeth. Women stand around him, holding their drinks. Two women hold firecrackers and cozy up next to him. The server passes by the bar, carrying her tray high in the air as he sits on the end of the counter. Two women grind against him.
As people raise their hands to the music, his flimsy arms stretch out, on the cusp of tearing in half. In a bathroom, he and a woman have sex. The woman makes exaggerating grunting sounds, holding onto the head, which is bobbing back and forth. Where are the women with the firecrackers when you need them?
A brawl breaks out at the club. Two men punch each other. He manages to keep it from escalating with his head. He holds onto his friend’s head while he throws up all over the toilet.
People wave their hands in unison as he stands on stage, underneath forest green lights, his skinny arms holding a guitar. He gives two thumbs up for some unknown reason. In the bathroom, a bloodied woman hands him a shot.
Back in the bathroom, he stares into the mirror, seeing his head enlarged.
The papier-mâché.head is horrific, creating nightmares every night for both adults and children (if they get a glimpse). When the puppet holds onto the guitar, it’s surprising there aren’t razors in it and Posner goes on a resentment fueled rampage at the audience for ignoring him for so long. The frozen, unmoving smile is shudder-inducing and panning in on the detail only makes it worse.
Then, it gets outright disgusting. When the guy throws up, it’s as gross as possible: a sticky, green goo that hits the rim of the toilet. The sex is undignified and demoralizing to watch. It’s done to be done. It’s an act. They might as well be exercising it’s done in such a routine manner.
Director: Jon Jon Augustavo Year: 2016