On the 5th February (also known as ‘National Weatherperson’s Day’), Paramore released the fourth installation of their After Laughter music video collection. The video was for Rose Coloured Boy – a song that features lyrics such as “low key, no pressure / just hang with me and my weather” and uses meteorological themes throughout, so National Weatherperson’s Day seems a very fitting day for release.

The music video was directed by Warren Fu, an American music video director and designer, who has also directed promos for Daft Punk, HAIM and Depeche Mode. Wu’s influence is tangible, and artistically this is one of Paramore’s most visually cohesive music videos to date. The cinematography (by Byron Werner) is delightfully retro with lots of subtle throwbacks to broadcasting in the ’80s – there is even a homage to Bill O’Reilly’s meltdown live moment. But as well as being aesthetically solid, with lots of ’80s retro paraphernalia scattered throughout, the video alludes to a deeper message which I will attempt to untangle in this article. Buckle your seatbelts, things are about to get analytical…

The video opens with a shot of Hayley, fully dressed up in glorious ’80s news anchor attire (all credit for band costumes, hair and make up go to stylist Phoenix Johnson and Brian O’Connor) staring at her reflection in a mirror, taking a few deep breaths. Seconds before the first beat of the poppy refrain begins, Hayley finds her center of balance and composure and manages to paint a big fake smile on her face – a smile that is strained with the weight of trying to keep up a facade, that conveys pain behind the glassy unblinking eyes. It is an ominous start to an externally upbeat video, and sets the tone well for what is to come – the motif of ‘fake happy’ strained smiles will continue to pop up again and again as the video spirals into it’s existential climax and bounces back again.

Now we are launched into a montage – an opening sequence to a fictional news show broadcasting from Roseville, a town with an overwhelmingly rosy outlook (and a nice nod to the song title). The lyrics ring out loud and clear – “just hang with my and my weather” seems particularly pertinent as an image of Taylor struggling against a storm with an umbrella flashes on screen. It ties back to the album’s first single, Hard Times, and the lyrics “walking around with my little rain cloud” – the meteorological metaphor can be linked to mental health struggles, as depression is often characterized as a ‘dark cloud’ hanging over people’s heads, invisible to all but the individual. But the vibrant retro colours and plastered smiles seen in the music video juxtaposes the darker themes lying underneath, and this is the undercurrent message of the whole song. Despite the happy front we put on in order to fit in with society, it is never anything more than a mask used to conceal the true emotions bubbling deep down.

We are then introduced to Hayley the news anchor, Zac the sports correspondent and Taylor the weatherman in chronological order. Taylor’s weather map shows “sunny” weather everywhere – not a drop of rain or sadness to be found. The video is creating an incredibly happy, optimistic atmosphere that is as unsettling as it is artificial. However, we are snapped back to reality in between scenes as we see the band members’ smiles instantly fade to reveal cynical expressions of pure frustration – they are one hundred percent done with this bullshit, and they are not afraid to show it. The cut-glass transitions between ‘off screen’ moments where they are all fidgety with irritation, to the instant ‘on screen’ fake smile, performance artifice is as smooth and slick as flicking on a light switch. The lighting actually reflects the change too – it is darker, duller when the band members are not live, but as soon as the show is broadcasting, the camera angles change, the studio lights are on – it is lights, camera, action in its most literal sense.

We are then shown an array of studio guests – ‘Bogie the Dog’ (the weather predicting dog) and Summer Goodson (‘Happiness Guru’) – an explicit, satirical mockery of the oft ridiculous nature of media entertainment. Summer Goodson is promoting a book – ‘Real Happy’ (perhaps a direct link to the song Fake Happy?) which just adds to the feeling of pretense and disingenuous happiness. We are then taken backstage with the band, and this is when the ‘big shot execs’ make their first appearance. A particular highlight from this scene is one of the boards in their presentation is showing the ‘sweet spot’ between being content and neuroticism – ‘happy’. This is foreshadowing the scenes to come, where we see what happens when the sweet spot is exploited and we tip into the extremities. Hayley then turns to face the mirror and we are given a shot that reflects the one in their old music video Playing God (2010). The look on her face holds a thousand expressions and emotions – but we are starting to see a more vulnerable person, not just a puppet held up by the strings of the media. It is time to take the “rose-tinted glasses” off and face reality, no matter how painful it may be.

The tone of the video shifts as Hayley starts chasing a mysterious figure in a trench coat, only to find out that it is hollow and vacuous and there is no real person there at all. This leads to the highly emotional, philosophically challenging climax – the facade is well and truly shattered and we are left questioning the foundation of everything we know: who are we? How much of our actions are performance? Are we truly happy? Hayley finds herself in an undefined room filled with television screens, all of them projecting videos of herself yelling mantras like: “Smile more!”, “Be happy!” and “Drink more coffee!” Then the images change to a younger, child version of Hayley delivering the first piece of genuine news that we’ve encountered so far. The child Hayley then asks: “Hayley… what are you doing? This isn’t you. Who are you?” This is it. ‘Who are you?’ Those three words that carry enough philosophical weight to launch anyone into a spiral of existential dread. It really relates to the band’s struggles with self-identity and how to preserve a genuine image while the modern day media machine runs rife with commercialism and capitalist motivations. How can a band stay true to themselves and relatable, whilst the industry these days treats bands like a commodity – to be marketed and packaged up and sold? By addressing these questions, Paramore remind us that in order to be true to ourselves we have to look past this and remember what is really important.

After a Bill O’Reilly style breakdown, the band launch into a rebellious, bold performance and the cinematography has shifted from rosy to a deep, evocative red. To the crew’s horror, the band are finally pushing past the norm and expressing who they really are. It is a euphoric epiphany that is both exciting and cathartic in equal measures. However, the very ending goes back to the opening montage. It is very much like the Fake Happy video conclusion where after the chaos and destruction and creative outpouring of originality – it just goes back to the facade and the fake happy smile. Everything is covered up and concealed again for the sake of social convention. It is a harsh reminder of the world we live in today, but it could not have been more masterfully executed.

Watch the video here!

Featured image credit: growupheather (reddit)