In the annals of Miley Cyrus videos, there is no shortage of party scenes. Yet with her latest one for the Liam Hemsworth-alluding (once again) “Slide Away,” there is less fervor for the party than there used to be. As though she’s on her Marcello from La Dolce Vita tip and she can’t deny any longer that all the drugs and orgies have grown stale with the repetition that comes with age. This is one of the main reasons her decision to part ways with Hemsworth (whom she only married late last year after the trauma bonding experience of going through the Woolsey fires together) is somewhat ironic considering the fact that one tends to settle for settling down (into the comfortable coma of monogamy) once they’ve tired of the twenty-four hour fête existence.
For a brief moment, it seemed as though that’s precisely what Cyrus was doing (as evidenced by the decidedly more “easy listening” tone of 2017’s Younger Now). Even her collaboration with Mark Ronson on 2018’s “Nothing Breaks Like A Heart” indicated that being so devil may care in the past had led her to a point of self-sequestering in the present. But it was with the recently released EP, She Is Coming, that Cyrus began to show flagrant signs of what can be referred to as 50s wife syndrome, most palpably on “Mother’s Daughter.” Although well-timed to coincide with further subjugation of women’s rights with regard to anti-abortion legislation, it was evident that the lyrics (e.g. “Don’t fuck with my freedom”) stemmed from a more personal feeling of oppression. As though making her union with Hemsworth “official” served to suddenly cause a formerly invisible prison gate to come crashing down on her.
When one lives in Malibu, that kind of imprisonment can feel all the more isolating. Even at the most burgeoning of parties. With this in mind, the Alexandre Moors-directed “Slide Away” offers no short supply of scenes featuring Cyrus in a haze as the rest of the blurred out revelers orbit around her like she’s not there (in certain regards, the vibe is decidedly Madonna in “Drowned World/Substitute For Love”). And like any L.A. party worth its weight in cachet, there is a pool as the anchor of all the debauchery. One that Cyrus wields to its utmost fashion photography potential as Moors drenches (no pun intended) the narrative in overhead shots of a serene-in-her-resignation Cyrus floating in the water (at times overloaded with the wreckage of post-part debris)–wearing couture, of course.
Walking through her house (at times empty, at times full) like a complete stranger, Cyrus’ dazed state appears to mirror how she got through her relationship, at long last having to declare, “Move on, we’re not seventeen/I’m not who I used to be.” That former version of herself being someone who could get off endlessly on a “good time” spurred by mind-altering substances. Something Hemsworth reportedly still enjoys. But that’s just scratching the (water’s) surface of why it had to end. And once Cyrus reconciles that the party needs to be over, she is depicted by Moors in the crucifixion pose (a position she’s clearly fond of if the “Nothing Breaks Like A Heart” video told us anything) with one last beautifully timed overhead shot of her drifting tranquilly in the pool, among the ruins in the water being a ten of hearts card. Yes, it’s a subtle but overt nod to ten years spent with Hemsworth. Just memories floating around her de-partied husk now.
