Dance music duo Disclosure has just released the video for their song “Magnets,” and beloved witchy woman Lorde figures prominently, both as vocalist and as the video’s protagonist. Indeed, this is Lorde as we haven’t previously experienced her: seductive as patent leather, merciless and consuming as flame. She’s fantastic.
Upon initial viewing, one might assume that the video chronicles yet another Fatal Attraction narrative, wherein a mistress takes her brutal revenge on a man determined to shake her. But we should know Lorde better than that by now. As she explains on Twitter, filming this video nourished her fantasy of annihilating the two-timing, abusive dickface:
And let’s face it, the “douchey boyfriend” in this video deserves his torturous end. Just look at that face:
That is not the visage of loving tenderness, my friends. Nor is it the face of loyalty. When, at the beginning of the video, he spots Lorde at a party, his attention swivels away from his girlfriend without a moment’s pause.
Lorde is hot, yes. But you, sir, are barely concealing your interest, and that is both tacky and utterly disrespectful. You’ll pay for these sins later, make no mistake.
Meanwhile, Lorde has no interest in taking a lover; that is not her object. Rather, we are meant to assume that she is on the prowl for cheating miscreants like this fellow. It’s appropriate that she wears white in these first shots, and that her hair is drawn softly back from her face. Here she plays the ingenue with nothing to conceal, her dewy youthful face fusing sexual curiosity with innocence. As far as Doucheman knows, she’s ripe for the picking.
Lorde permits him to believe as much. The video transitions from the crush of a party to the spacious solitude of a kitchen. Is this the first sexual encounter between Lorde and her prey? It’s uncertain, and ultimately it doesn’t much matter. But as the two enchain themselves together against hard glass, we understand that Lorde’s method of seduction is underway. She permits her man to touch her, but never to kiss her full on the lips. She simultaneously pleasures and evades. And as the camera follows the arc of her neck, her heavy-lidded eyes, it muddies the boundary between erotic pleasure and the pleasure of revenge.
This particular sequence of shots, by the way, is aesthetically stunning. Lorde’s face—its power of expression—is poetic. Over the course of “Magnets,” her creamy serenity gives way to ferocity gives way to frigid blood thirst. I never want this woman to stop singing, but I want to see her in a proper film, too.
In the midst of this interlude, Lorde casts us a glance. “I haven’t lost myself,” her eyes promise, “This sucker is going to suffer.”
I believe her.
And as Lorde points out, she has especial reason to unleash hell on this man. He cheats, yes, but he moreover perpetrates domestic violence.
The “her” to whom Lorde refers is Scum Bucket’s partner, who likely suspects his indiscretions and perhaps has even been punished for confronting him about them. Look carefully at her right eye in the following still:
Moments before she turns, we can only discern a dark and long-haired silhouette facing the window—it’s therefore unclear whether we see Lorde or the unnamed girlfriend. Suspension of clarity is critical here; it signifies a burgeoning kindred purpose. By no means are Lorde and this woman battling for the affections of this man; rather, they will form a united front against him.
As the video concludes, we learn that the two women do indeed join forces. Lorde approaches her Douche Prey, tied to a chair at a pool’s edge, as his girlfriend bears approving witness. Her hair, no longer tied in a ponytail nor falling limply down her back, is wild, tethering her ever more closely to Lorde and the emancipation she represents. My only qualm is that the women do not off the two-timing bugger together.
So, you might wonder how “douchey boyfriend” meets his end (if you haven’t already watched the video, that is). Fear not, our patience is rewarded with maximalist fantasy fulfillment. Queen Lorde, after all, heeds not man’s cries for mercy.
That is the fluorescent-kissed profile of a woman who is not to be thwarted, nor obstructed in her darkest plans. For his crimes, Douchemonger has been condemned to death by fire and water. Observe:
Splash! Into the pool he goes, chair and all. But drowning is too tame, too pedestrian for this man. With this in mind, Lorde produces a lighter.
That’s more like it.
Only a purifying flame of this magnitude can cleanse the world of a douchey boyfriend. Slick and gleaming, Lorde has undertaken a necessary brutality in the name of Righteous Misandry. All hail Lorde, Angel of Death—and, for that matter, the ensemble donned in honor of the occasion. After all, if you’re going to kill a man, you should always wear black patent leather.
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Video via YouTube. Embedded Images via YouTube/Twitter.