Below is a conversation between my girlfriend and I after watching Justin Bieber: Never Say Never last night. The viewing started as a joke. I said I wanted to watch the Bieber doc and my girlfriend just ordered it, saying you shouldn’t joke about what you want. It’s bizarre but I really enjoyed it; it was like peeking into the life of a premature, white, Canadian Michael Jackson. Here is the conversation.
Girlfriend: So Foucault, we’ve just wrapped up the mind-blowing spectacle of Canadian bumpkin-turned-homeboy Justin Bieber. I’m not yet a single mother, but I know how I’m going to bankroll my Ferrari. For such a charming young man, he’d do well to pull up his pants, no?
Me: I think the pants are part of the gimmick, where almost every song demonstrates what a wonderful boyfriend he’ll be. He crotch thrusts, pointing to various girls in the crowd constantly – he’s selling the idea of sexuality without sex. It’s hand holding, possibly under the shirt but over the skirt sexuality. I will admit that narcissistic little twerp gained respect for his drumming ability but that’s about it. I also think he has A.D.D.
Girlfriend: Speaking of teen sexuality, I liked the part where Miley Cyrus tried to upstage him in that gynecological little black number. It felt a little “wrong” when Bieber clutched Miley’s waist—like a Spring Breaker making a move on the “mature” cocktail waitress. So which part of this transcendent chronicle of the teen sensation’s heroic journey moved you the most?
Me: The hair. I also enjoyed seeing how much goes into making Bieber fever possible. Aside from the road crew, that kid has dozens of people working for him. This is not a fly-by-night little venture – it’s a full blown all in one variety show, starring the Biebs. However, the songs are just terrible little pop farts and I just laugh at how insipid they are. What’s really interesting is how that lifestyle (with yelling tweens chasing you down, driving from one city to the next, selling out a tour in a few hours) changes somebody. I personally doubt the Justin Bieber we saw in the film is genuine. What do you think?
Girlfriend: I think the real Justin Bieber has a secret chamber lined with the skeletons of decapitated cats and judges child beauty pageants for the “fresh ass.” No, but really, he’s squeaky clean. I kind of want to put a cigarette in his mouth and hand him a vodka rocks. I can’t wait until his difficult transition period in the spotlight. He should consult Miley—she got a dream-catcher tattoo! Very classy, like her daddy.
Me: A dream-catcher? What the fuck is she? A Native American?
Personally I can’t wait for Bieber’s unhinged phase; it should be a real treat. In the film Bieber’s handlers say they like an underdog story but I can’t wait for the downward spiral. American’s love that shit – just look at the Casey Anthony trial. I’m also concerned Biebs’ descent into darkness will actually be a trip into manufactured rebellion, complete with a Avril-esq Clash shirt and an unlit, unfiltered cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I think Bieber fever is turning into pneumonia.
Girlfriend: His next flick can focus on his coke habit: Always Say Always.
Me: One can only hope he’ll end up on a supermarket tabloid with white powder on his nose and a heroin addicted prostitute licking his hairless nuts. By the way: do you think he’s still a virgin or has he banged a “Less Lonely Girl” in each of the 86 towns he’s played in?
Girlfriend: Hopefully he’ll learn from Britney Spears and shut the hell up about his virginity. Since he’s a guy, he’ll have it easier. I’m betting on blurry cell phone pics of body shots in Ibiza as his first big scandal. I think he should get ballsier, though. Maybe he could dump Selena Gomez for Sharon Stone, or do a Lars Von Trier movie. Anything to get us past this Truth or Dare at Gymboree nonsense.
Here is the trailer