Back to giving us “normal-length” videos after her TikTok-length slew of Caprivids, FKA Twigs doesn’t disappoint with her return to the screen. This time, the video is in promotion of a standalone single called “Killer.” Though it’s likely to appear on whatever her next record might be. Espousing the kind of fragility that Lana Del Rey wanted to (but instead came across as a cringe-y Karen with white girl problems), Twigs has been wielding the wilted rose emoji a lot as she discusses the lyrical content’s themes. And even the music video itself is captioned with a Suzannah Pettigrew quote: “Just because I am not loud, does not mean I am not strong.” A girl can be quiet and delicate, yet still somehow strong enough to heal and repair after yet another wounding heartache.
As Twigs herself reiterated on the video’s release day, “…like the wildest plucked roses, I find myself more beautiful delicately wilted, in shadow, forced solace, darkened at the edges and achingly thirsting to be tended to again.” She’s certainly being tended to by Arón Piper in the visuals directed by Yoann Lemoine (best known for helming “Born to Die”—again accenting a certain Del Rey-Twigs connection, if the photo of them with Florence and Marina didn’t already… but then, that was before The Unfollowing). A man either clearly inspired by Herb Ritts, or told to tread in the realm of his aesthetic by Twigs herself. Which would make sense considering how much time she’s spent with Madonna lately, Ritts’ proponent from the get-go. As Madonna would retell the story to Vanity Fair, “The first time I (met) Herb was on the set of Desperately Seeking Susan—and it’s true, he put a pair of underwear on my head. I thought he was a real geek. I soon moved out to Los Angeles and ran into Herb again, and in his sweet disarming way, he suggested that we work together again. I agreed to it and that was my real first, proper photoshoot. That’s when I got ‘Herbified.’ (It) was the beginning of an incredible long and fruitful working relationship. But it was also the beginning of a great friendship.” One that has clearly continued to inspire other people’s work, for there’s no denying the influence of the “Cherish” video in “Killer,” the former, in turn, influencing Janet Jackson’s “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” and Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game”—a clear benchmark for any “sexy beach romp” in a music video. And naturally, Twigs and Lemoine opted for filming in black and white—intermixed with scenes of “Flashdance Twigs” in color. Complete with leg warmers.
Ritts, too, would blend black and white with color scenes in his videos once he became more confident, but with his debut effort, “Cherish,” the music video that set the precedent for his style, he was certain to stick to the tricks of his photography trade. Black and white being one of them. Granted, it was said that Madonna’s skin was looking even paler because of the frigid water temperature. And we all know Madonna is no stranger to using black and white to mitigate certain skin conditions (Truth or Dare and the “Secret” video also being shot in B&W to offset the noticeability of M’s adult acne).
It was 1989 when “Cherish” was rolled out onto MTV, and nothing like it had ever really been seen, especially not from someone as sexually provocative as Madonna. Compared to writhing around in a wedding dress and frolicking in front of burning crosses, “Cherish” was positively “sweet.” That is, to the untrained eye. But it was evident Ritts was trying to subliminally “infect” the minds of straights (and closeted gays alike) with ample homoerotic imagery, and it bears noting that “Cherish” is among the only instances in his work where the female lead appears more interested in her own autoerotic agency (that’s been Madonna’s signature from the beginning, even in something as early as the video for “Lucky Star”). Janet Jackson sought to “correct” that slightly with “Love Will Never Do (Without You),” released the following year in 1990. At the time, Jackson was on the verge of marrying a rather overly lurking René Elizondo Jr., so it makes sense that she wouldn’t fully take advantage of the man candy orbiting her in the video—which came in the forms of Antonio Sabàto Jr. and Djimon Hounsou. And while Hounsou seems to be there solely to show off his athletic musculature, Sabàto Jr. does occasionally allow his body to be “used” by Janet. That is, when she’s not caressing or hugging her own self against the vague backdrop of a desert landscape—one that’s only occasionally shown in comparison to the beach in the aforementioned “Cherish” video and then, in 1991, “Wicked Game.”
While “Cherish” was shot in Malibu, Ritts took “Wicked Game” to one of his other favorite locations, Hawaii (where he often favored having his photoshoots, as a 1985 spread for Madonna would establish). It was through the lens of this video that Ritts presented heteronormativity at its most believable, with Helena Christensen serving as something of a precursor to Britney Spears’ own personal model, Brice Durand, in the 2001 video for “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know.” Indeed, Durand could have easily made his living as an Abercrombie model at the time, with most of Herb Ritts’ act being stolen from that brand anyway. Alas, while Britney was trying to enjoy herself during those sensual moments, Justin Timberlake was acting like a bitch by conveying his jealousy over Brit having too many touchy-feely-kissy scenes with Durand (as if he didn’t do the same in *NSYNC’s “Gone,” also directed by Ritts). Then there was Brit’s “good Christian” mother, Lynne, babbling about how sordid it all was. Ritts truly had no idea what he was bargaining for when he took on the job, but he still made it look hot—and it’s one of his few “in living color” videos, with no B&W used at any point. Brit had to be captured in all her dewy glory, after all.
Michael Jackson, not so much. Proving that the “King of Pop” was always following others by the time the 90s came around, he took a page from M and Janet in 1992 by selecting Ritts to direct the sepia-toned “In the Closet,” co-starring Naomi Campbell (because no Ritts music video is truly complete without a model). Ironically, Michael sounded more like Janet in terms of pitch for the vocals of “In the Closet.” And the fact that Madonna was slated to be part of the project before Michael got all skittish about the idea of actually confronting the message behind that title in the visuals seems like part of the reason Ritts was tapped to direct. Chock-full of the same signature shadows and silhouettes that Ritts became known for, the look of the video—including its Mexican architectural influence—would reappear again in J. Lo’s 2001 single, “Ain’t It Funny” (the real version, not the remix). While “In the Closet” was shot in Salton Sea, California, “Ain’t It Funny” was filmed in less desert-oriented wilds, but it, too, offers a pretty love interest in the form of Eduardo Verástegui. And you know Mariah felt copied by J. Lo more than ever in that instant. For not only had Lopez freshly ripped off her “Firecracker” sample thanks to Tommy Mottola’s revenge-motivated nepotism, but Carey already “did the Ritts” thing.
Because, yes, after Toni Braxton’s “Let It Flow” in 1996, Ritts moved on to his next diva icon, Mariah Carey, in 1998. And “My All” coalesced all the Ritts staples (#puttinontheRitts)—from the omnipresence of water to the subject caressing and hugging herself to the use of a model to the forbidden love element. And yes, the song was so much more romantic when we didn’t know it was inspired by Derek Jeter.
Apart from 1994’s Bon Jovi edition of “Please Come Home for Christmas” (relying heavily on Cindy Crawford’s presence) and Tracy Chapman’s mic-dropping “Telling Stories” in 2000, Ritts’ least “Ritts” video was his last one, Shakira’s “Underneath Your Clothes”—and not just because it was in color (interspersed with occasional black and white), but because 1) there was no water, with most of the scenes spent in confined, non-picturesque rooms and 2) rather than using a model, Shakira wielded her then boyfriend, Antonio de la Rúa.
Regardless of any “off-brand” visuals in Ritts’ oeuvre, the firm building blocks of his distinct aesthetic are there for anyone to recapture, and it seems almost overdue that someone should borrow so heavily from the maestro of photography. His all-too-brief videography has left as much of an imprint on pop culture as any other music video director with a more prolific canon (e.g. Sophie Muller or Joseph Kahn). Because Ritts was never going to be a “fast food director.” He was the type to take his time; meticulous, methodical. And always, always playing up the male form via just the right shadows and plays of light. The same qualities that also influence the tincture in “Killer,” as well as the gradual yet sudden alteration in tone that already starts to make itself known around the minute and a half mark, when Piper proceeds to take a little too much joy in placing his hand around Twigs’ neck (this could easily allude to her tenure with Shia LaBeouf—with the lyrics to “Killer” seeming heavily influenced by that period).
It’s clear that “Flashdance Twigs” can feel something is off as she does choreo that includes pantomiming pretending to stab herself. A gesture that cuts to the core (no pun intended) of the masochism so often involved in opening one’s heart long enough to try trusting someone (again). And while it all seemed like sunshine and sex in the spirit of From Here to Eternity (which was what inspired Chris Isaak with some naughtier scenes in “Wicked Game”) in the daylight, as the sun sets, things start to get darker in more ways than one.
Continuing to dance in her studio, outside on the beach, the malevolent intentions of her lover become clear to Twigs. This much is made visually manifest by the coloring of the cinematography transforming in the performance space as well. There’s a pall now, and the intercut scenes of Piper’s nefarious gaze only add to the pain she appears to be feeling. Worse still, with the fall of night comes the reveal of his true essence: a masked deviant. A beast being unleashed. With those Lucifer-like horns, he ravages Twigs on a rock, heightened by another intense scene of him wrapping his hand around her neck in the killer pose.
The way it’s shot by Lemoine reveals there is a pleasure-pain at play the same way there was in many of Ritts’ videos (see also: Chris Isaak’s “Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing”) that center on a form of forbidden love, a love that one cannot fully take joy in—either because there is some kind of taint to it or because it won’t be accepted by society at large, these two factors often intertwining. And when Twigs laments (at the same time she despises her lover for being cruel), “And even eating’s hard without you/When it’s your love I want to guard you/It’s true, hunger pains, no I can’t live without you,” it once more speaks to the masochistic tendencies at work in so many relationship dynamics. These are the kind of warring, yearning and burning sentiments that attracted Ritts to particular songs (“My All” and “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know” being of particular note with regard to that motif).
But Lemoine makes the style his own with an ending that accents the psychological horror of it all. For, by the end of “Killer,” we see that “Flashdance Twigs” is watching her ravaged avatar from her perch in the studio window in something like mild shock (this is where the Jordan Peele influence comes in). That’s what it is to continue to throw caution to the wind in a toxic relationship. It’s almost as though you’re outside of yourself watching the abuse unfold in a fugue state. It only takes a few years for that version of yourself looking at it all happening from the window to scream at the corporeal self engaging in the act, “Just fucking run!” Of course, not everyone can add, “But make it Herb Ritts” to that.
