There is a timely sense of rage bubbling to the surface at every turn in Dua Lipa’s latest video co-starring Angèle, who collaborated with her on the most recent single (from Future Nostalgia’s bonus track edition), “Fever.” One directed deliberately at “girls like them,” a.k.a. fun-loving privileged bitches who seem to be having the time of their lives despite the fact that everyone else is miserable among the current conditions. And yet, those with this view often miss the point that it isn’t about a “girls just wanna have fun” cliche, so much as finding whatever joy you can when and where you can. Of course, that’s become even more of an impossibility with the “pandemic police” at play (and in most European countries, that term is very literal).
Thus, it adds a layer of apropos-ness to the fact that every celebrity’s “favorite” rag (especially Johnny Depp’s), The Sun, called out Dua Lipa for “flouting” COVID regulations during the shoot. After which the police were reportedly called as a result when locals watching and hearing the staged fun from their Shoreditch confines were upset by the spectacle that was a “slap in the face” to “people in the area… respecting the law,” which compounded “see[ing] a pop star openly break it.” Indeed, the video does look quite authentic–but then, why shouldn’t it? Musicians at that level certainly have the budget to cover the costs of COVID tests for everyone (just ask Cardi B and Ariana Grande, who also recently shot “everything’s normal” videos in the form of “WAP” and “Positions,” respectively).
And the authenticness stems at least in part from the fact that it’s the dead of night and everyone else in the area (not Camden, where Lipa directs the driver at the beginning of the video to take her) was forced to be inside. Lipa, who runs out of a closing club to catch a taxi, is already in the back seat when Angèle peers inside and asks incredulously, “Are you going home now? Let’s walk a bit.” Angèle, clearly the more adventurous of the two, dances fancifully in the middle of the empty rain-soaked street. And it is that just rained on look of the London night that layers on an intense longing and nostalgia to the carefreeness of the video. Maybe that’s why the bystanders are so jealous–we all yearn for this time to return, knowing full well that even if it does come back, it will never quite be the same.
With the visuals helmed by directing collective We Are From LA, there’s an almost short film quality to it, detailing an “anything can happen after hours” sort of narrative that starts with Lipa and Angèle getting fries at a late night food stand while the other patrons randomly start dancing to the sultry rhythm of the beat. Running through the streets like unleashed mad women, Lipa mounts a lamppost before the lights of a cop car flash ominously over Angèle’s face. In truth, maybe the aforementioned cops were only really “called” to the shoot to execute this very scene.
Running with even more giddy “I’m alive!” exuberance than before, the short film vibe gets accentuated during a moment of dialogue between Lipa and Angèle while waiting for the train on a deserted platform, now playing the song in a “Big Brother” fashion over the speakers. Angèle asks Lipa about “Dexter,” who we’re supposed to assume is her boyfriend before realizing it’s her dog. Lipa matter-of-factly explains, “Dexter had to stay in America because, well first of all my boyfriend had to work, but second of all Dexter has to get his balls cut off. You know, like, I don’t know how you say it in French but not like balls cut off but he has to get neutered.” Angèle nods knowingly and informs Lipa that such a word translates to “castré” in French, an even more evocative term to describe it.
The song goes back to playing normally (as opposed to over the speakers) as they muck about on the platform before ending up in a quiet neighborhood. One in which a scrutinizing and suspicious old woman gives them the stink eye that everyone else has been (not so secretly envious that they’re trying to feign a pandemic isn’t afoot). More scandalous still is when Lipa and Angèle are invited into an ostensible stranger’s apartment for an impromptu party. Singing Angèle’s portion of the lyrics with her as they skip through the halls of the building, another woman who actually lives there comes out to hiss at them, “Who the hell are you? Shut the fuck up!” Again, in these times, parading a good mood is the ultimate sin. Even if it’s done in a “laugh to keep from crying” sort of manner.
Walking out of the apartment in a dazed trance after their dance session, Angèle and Lipa keep singing in their slightly less chipper tones, for it’s so early that only the fishmongers are out, prepping their catches of the day. So it is that we hear “…went out until six o’clock this morning!” as a tag from an outraged fishmonger chopping up fresh poisson. Is she talking about Angèle and Lipa? Probably. Because these days, word about anyone having fun gets around town fast.
