Can't tell me nothing

Lately, I've been obsessed with this video that comic Zach Galifianakis and singer/songwriter Will Oldham made for Kanye West's song, "Can't Tell Me Nothing," from last year's Graduation album:

I don't know why recording artists still make music videos, but it's definitely part of the game. What I mean is, I don't know who they are for or where one watches them, apart from YouTube. Kanye made an official video for "Can't Tell Me Nothing," then apparently asked Zach to make an alternative version, embedded above.

The official version features Kanye dancing around in the desert, with a chick in her underwear and a big piece of flowing fabric, some flashing lights, a fog machine and a Lamborghini Countach. It's a remarkably unimaginative video, apart from that it seems especially tossed-off and generic. It kind of just checks a list of rap video cliches and moves on. It's too bad, because the song itself is a pretty good hip-hop track, classic in its themes, poignantly conflicted in tone and bumpin'.

Somehow, in their alternative version, director Michael Blieden and Galifianakis tease out all of West's meaning and create a video that elevates the song far beyond what you'd expect. It's a hilarious video, yes, but more than that, it creates a surprisingly rich narrative and spins out all kinds of questions for the viewer - who are these guys? are they brothers? friends? lovers? where are they? what are their lives like? are they lonely? are they in pain? are the seeking redemption? Even in its absurdity, even in its moments of surreality or literalism, it's never less than beautiful, even beautifully wrong or strange. And some of the shots are simply stunning. My favorite are the magic hour shots of Zach in the straw hat in the green cornfield.

I get that to some people my reverence for this video and the degree to which I am reading into it will seem silly - after all, the filmmakers are just goofing off on Zach's farm with a bunch of cows, a red tractor and clog-dancing milkmaids. One might think they just improvised a bunch of shit, shot it, and slapped it together. I can understand that point of view, but I think it's very close-minded.

Galifianakis, if you look at his body of work thus far, appears to be some kind of genius. That's not a term I throw around lightly. His approach to comedy bears more than a passing resemblance to Andy Kaufman's, though he doesn't quite take it that far. He alienates his audience, insults them, tries to win them back, laments his failure to do so, reels off one non sequitur after another, tells unconnected series of simple jokes, and goofs on his beard, his weight and his own self-consciousness. In his skits, he vanishes into his characters, including that of his North Carolina-bred, back-country-accented, "twin brother," Seth, even as he completely fails to disguise himself. Likewise, in the music video, for me at least, while he is obviously Zach Galifianakis, he is something completely different as well - a hipster-farmer, dangerously unhinged, possibly violent or abusive, or maybe just closed back in upon himself in bottomless sorrow, his fierce, piercing gaze hooking into you. His level of commitment here is total, and I just can't look away.