A spotlight shines into an empty office building, focusing on Kendrick Lamar, who is a pope, draped in a cope.
On a table decorated with money, he spits out cash while four women insert the bills into machine, wearing masks over their mouths.
Underneath hot pink and lavender light, he rests his finger on his temple as he sits on the chair. The women read their magazines, uncrossing and crossing their legs.
On his bicycle, he rides over a home and the road on a globe.
On top of a car, he tees off and then shields his eyes, watching to see where the ball went.
Against a black background, he raps while the young men bobs their heads, looking at the floor. They look up occasionally, rapping along and shaking their heads.
In an re-enactment of Van Gogh’s “The Last Supper,” he is Jesus. Next, to him, the disciples have piled their plates high with bread. He tells one of them to sit back down.
In a backyard, he stands, his head on fire. Several men have ropes around their heads, which are also on fire. Men sit on top of the white picket fence, watching.
Against a sky blue split screen, he raps as the woman in the second screen poses, wearing trendy clothes. The split screen shows a side-by-side comparison of her with and without makeup. They switch sides and the young woman is wearing casual clothes and no makeup.
In the next split screen, he raps while a young woman’s butt is shown, full of cellulite. The split screen disappears to show only the woman’s butt.
On the street, he stands, his finger on his chin as the camera pans to knocked over grocery cart and a group of men behind him.
He drives in his car, dancing to the music. He butters his bread with mustard and then passes it to the car next to him.
He raps inside him home, red dots over his body and a light passing over the window.
He stands on the stairs of the building, a crowd surrounding him.
At the beauty shop, the women turn around, each letter of the song’s title cut into their heads.
The men leave the stairs. He is the last one to leave.
Kendrick Lamar demands better for his genre, in which his peers place themselves in the roles of God, believing their ability to sell music has elevated them. They help promote a lifestyle they can’t afford themselves and pretend nothing is wrong when asked. During the reenactment, he chastises a friend of his who is walking around, carrying food. They are fortunate to have the copious amounts of food and wine. His friend is taking it for granted.
He stands up for women who are expected to have round butts, free of cellulite and wear skin-tight clothing. Getting their butts slapped is considered part of the job. To him, men see woman as less than, a product they are able to consume without consequences. Instead, he breaks the status by presenting two women without any makeup and a young woman’s butt with cellulite. With the imperfections, they are still people and deserve respect.
Director: Dave Meyers and The Little Homies Year: 2017