A couple times a decade, Madonna tries on our least favorite reinvention -- dignity. Pop empires deflate at the very mention of the word, as do eager audience boners. "Take a Bow" approaches the dirty "D" but remembers its throbbing genitals by the 3.5 minute mark. Phew, girls.
In 1994, Madonna fans were confused. Reluctant followers balked at the poontang biathlon of the Sex book and Erotica, two projects that scared Tipper Gore and some smart people too. Apparently conservative types don't approve when Madonna throws acid and a little jizz in their eyes. Don't ask me. But even those who adored Erotica or those who just loved S&M (like Madonna's real fans -- and most businessmen) weren't hormonally sated. They scoffed at Madonna's cleaner projects, including her co-starring role in the family flick A League of Their Own, her accompanying crybaby hit "This Used to be My Playground," and the (oh no, a compliment) excellent ballad "I'll Remember" from the With Honors soundtrack. Though legitimate, those three works displayed a startling dearth of gaping vagina. Who the fuck was this genteel, approachable 35-year-old? Our sneering Salome appeared comfortable in her several dozen designer veils, and we wanted those veils in the mouths of crawling gay dudes. Was Madonna merely countering Erotica's negative press, or was she reemerging as a frightfully sedate, patrician balladeer? A nation prayed.
The answer turned out to be both. I mean, she did clean up, meaning she probably suffered a stroke. But then she did this:
Alright. Deranged. Foul. Badass. And most thankfully, a clear display of signature Madonna daddy issues and quasi-coherence. The wench was intact.
Strange to think her next album after the Letterman fiasco was Bedtime Stories, a slow, tasteful batch of evening R&B. The first single was "Secret," which yielded a deep, sexy video featuring a necessarily fierce RuPaul cameo. Then came "Take a Bow," which became the biggest single of Madonna's career (at least according to Billboard), and one of her most memorable vids of the '90s. Director Michael Haussman filmed almost 24 hours of footage for this clip, and he keep the parts showing bullfighting, Madonna in pain, Madonna masturbating, or the hot matador. This just in: Michael Haussman and I are soul brothers.
The video takes place in some sector of Spain where everything is golden-tinged. Must be nice. Madonna plays an ignored, but privileged wife who's forced to watch her famous matador beau on the telly and pretend he cares about their relationship. In the matador's defense, he's got his wonderful ass to think about. More to come on this scintillating discovery.
The lyrics to "Take a Bow" are heartfelt and cogent, describing an aloof lover's tendency to play stoic and strong for the public. "Take a bow / The show is over / This masquerade is getting older," etc. You might've heard them again recently when, hmmm, Rihanna shanghaied them for her OWN song called "Take a Bow." You're a ripoff, Ri Ri. I'm glad you sing fewer songs written around words you say funny ("Unfayyyful," "Um-burr-ella," and "DESTARBIAAAA" just to name my favorites), but still, go back to getting cool haircuts and not plagiarizing the songs of superstar gorgons.
We see a lot of Evita in Madonna's stateliness this time around, which is no surprise considering she devoted the year to convincing Andrew Lloyd Webber she wasn't just a lifelike mosaic of cone bras and gonorrhea. We also see a lot of super-duper acting, in general. And of course... doll parts.
I'm scared to know which video came first. Someone enlighten me about the original airdate of "Violet," but only after I climb under the covers and prepare to stifle my tears.Anyway, the plot of this video is serious stuff, so no laughing until it gets unintentionally very funny in about fifteen seconds. The video quickly establishes that Madonna's relationship with Spanish Ass Bandit is not fulfilling -- she always has to watch him on TV while he waves the red cape for the adoring, hyper-Hemingwayian public. Read: not soulpleasing Madonna. Judging by his taut facial features and rigid discpline, Madonna clearly means to produce Lourdes with this man. Ergo, the stakes are high.
In private before attending one of her beau's bullfights, Madonna straps on a bodice-hugging dress and a sexy veil. She also pricks her finger with a pin and draws blood, which will come to foreshadow the video's SWEET BULLFIGHTING/RELATIONSHIP METAPHOR WOO RAISE THE ROOF, but for now it just reminds everyone of "Like a Prayer." Or Sleeping Beauty. Or that time we purposely cut ourselves after hearing that Madonna was dating Dennis Rodman.
Look, girls, don't hurt yourself over a guy, OK? Ever. No man is worth severing your relationship with yourself.
Except when he's this hot.
Good-jiggity-Christ, ladies. Can't you put that self-esteem on ice and understand those buns deserve devotion? And your silence? Gloria Steinem's strapping on the apron for that shit. Even depressed-and-abandoned housewife Madonna can aptly trace the man's glorious gluteus with finesse, as pictured above. I'm usually willing to sympathize with emotionally slaughtered women, but let's face it, Madonna needs to suck it up. The ass will return home shortly, the adamantium booty will be served, and a bountiful cheek feast will commence. In the meantime, take off the veil and treat yourself to a Sonic burger, Ciccone. And ladies, don't even bring up your "feelings" right now, because that bullfunky is verboten in Gold Spain Land.
Still, Madonna plays nice and attends a bullfight. But, oh, the burden of fame. It's hard on the eyes. These limelight romances will never do. I still feel bad for Lyle Lovett.
After a few more audience-dunkings in bullfight metaphor, "Take a Bow" finally allows Madge to go home, get nekkid, and start masturbating like the freak baboon we adore. Making love to the TV screen that broadcasts her lover's stainless image, Madonna submits to his game, even crouching like a bull once. She pours her bosoms onto our faces, wears decadent (mildly space-age?) undergarments, and twists under the sheets. Garish but smart stuff here, and actually a bit poignant. Unfortunately they don't grant Oscars for music video self-love jags. Jill Sobule remains ruefully empty-handed.
You know what they say. If you can't have your man in the sack when you want, you better... start giving birth.
Eventually Madonna and Matadorable butt heads, smear some lipstick, and the whole thing is worse than Chernobyl. Reflecting the self-inflicted pain earlier in the video, we witness the matador step soundly over broken glass. In the last shots of the clip, we now see Madonna on the TV, cooing, "Say goodbye," before the Babyface-branded strings play us out. But this time, Kenneth Edmunds, the "End of the Road" has nothing to do with R&B slow-jam sensations, and everything to do with... the pangs of love. Toro, y'all.
"Take a Bow" is a fine single, a fine video, and lyrically chockablock with more metaphors than the Kama Sutra. For a second I thought Madonna never treated us again to so much "bull" in one helping, but then I came to my senses.
Too easy. Nice Asian photoshop face, Madonna.
