The Circle of Suck

When talking about the quality of any given piece of media, be it a song, a movie, or whatever, I've always used a linear scale. A one-to-ten kind of thing. Back in high school, my friend Himay and I came up with the Threshold of Tolerance for songs played on the radio, where a "10" was any song that you could play over and over again without getting sick of it and a "1" was any song that would make you want to put a power drill through your ear rather than hear that song one more time. (At the time of its creation, the lowest possible song on the ToT was "Truly, Madly, Deeply" by Savage Garden... which, 10 years later, still makes me reach for the toolbox.) Each of us has our own rating system that others may not agree with (I, for one, cannot understand how "Fargo" has made it to the top of so many people's lists. Or Woody Allen films, for that matter), but the idea that there are things that are truly great and things that are truly awful and those two sides shall never meet is pretty universal.

Recently, though, I've begun to rethink my philosophy. What if, instead of a linear scale, we used a circular one? We can still retain the idea of polar opposites, where the North Pole = the truly great and the South Pole = anything starring Vin Diesel in the lead role. In a clockwise manner, the space between the North and South Pole would resemble our familiar linear scale. For example, in my little world, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, "Heat," "Rock Star," and the 1977-1983 era Star Wars trilogy would be hanging out up by the North Pole. Freezing their asses off down at the South Pole would be "Mars Attacks," Vin Diesel films, and any Star Wars film resulting from the replacement of George Lucas with a malfunctioning clone.

But what about on the other side? If the South Pole represents the absolute worst in film, television, music, whatever, than what's beyond suck? Well, I've recently come to the conclusion that there exists those things that are so unimaginably bad that they go careening past the South Pole and start making their way back north, just on the basis of entertainment value alone. Take, for example, movies like "Glitter," "Showgirls," "Deep Blue Sea," or "Road House." On your average linear scale, those films would be hovering around the 1, but usually with a disclaimer that they are "so bad they're good." On the circular scale, though, the disclaimer is unnecessary. Samuel L. Jackson's monologue before he gets devoured by a shark whose brain has been enlarged, thus making it smarter, puts the film squarely due west. The pool sex scene alone in "Showgirls" elevates it almost back up to the top spot.

Still don't believe me that entertainment value can be found in what appears to be a steaming pile of crap dropped on society by a media conglomerate? Well, then, look no further than R. Kelly's epic "Trapped in the Closet" series. No, I'm not kidding. As soon as you finish reading this, I want all of you to seek out these videos. Start at Chapter 1 and see if you don't find yourself wanting to watch all the way through Chapter 12. And, trust me, it's not because of their compelling storyline or their catchy lyrics.

For those of you not familiar with these videos, a brief primer. R. Kelly plays all the roles in this little hip-hopera, from the cheating Sylvester to the cheating Rufus to the cheating Gwendolyn to nosy neighbor Rosy (who's probably cheating too). In the videos, the actors playing the various characters are all lip-synching (and poorly at that) to R. Kelly's voice. It's clear that Kelly envisioned this to be a musical on par with anything on Broadway. One problem - for all 12 chapters, it's the same damn song. The melody never changes. You might be able to work around that if there were some catchy lyrics to go along with it. Sadly, no. Some sample lyrics, from Chapter 2:

Well now he’s staring at me like as if he was staring in the mirror
She yells, “Honey let me explain”
He says, “You don’t have to go no further”
“I can clearly see what’s going on behind my back, in my bed, in my home”
Then I said, “wait a minute now hold on”
I said, “Mister we can work this out”
She said “honey don’t lose control”
I tried to get him to calm down
He said “oh I should have known
That you would go and do some bogus shit up in my house
But the Christian in me gave you the benefit of the doubt”
I said “we need to resolve this”
And he stepped to me I’m like “whoa
There’s a reason I’m in this closet”
He says “yeah? What are you talking clothes?”
“I met this girl at the bodja club and she told me she didn’t have a man”
Then he said “man please I'd kill you if you didn’t have that gun in your hand”
And then I said “but your chick chose me”
He said “don’t give me that mack shit please”
His phone goes off and then things get a little more interesting
He steps a little closer I point my gun and say “I’m not the one you after”
He says “something I bet you didn’t know my man… Did she tell you that I was a pastor?”
I said “well good that’s better right? Why can't we handle this Christian-like?”
And I started to put the gun down until I saw his face still had a frown
She started crying "saying “baby I’m sorry”
Then he said “baby not as sorry as you’re gonna be”
I started inching out
He says “no I want you to see this”
He said “I gotta get out this house, and not ‘til I reveal this secret”
I'm like “what is going on inside his head?”
Then he takes his phone and calls someone up himself
“Hello” (hello?)
“Baby?” (aha)
“Turn the car around” (what’s going on over there?)
“Listen, I just need for you to get right back here now”
He looks at me and says “well since we’re all coming out the closet
I'm not about to be the only one that’s broken-hearted”
She said “what do you mean?”
He said “just wait and see”
I said “somebody better talk to me”
And then his phone rings
He picks up and somebody says “sweetheart I'm downstairs”
And he’s like “I’ll buzz you up
I'm on the 5th floor hurry take the stairs”
And I'm like “who is this mystery lady that you’re talking to?”
And he says “in time you both will know the shocking truth
Baby this is something I’ve been wanting to get off my chest for a long, long time”
And I said “nigga I'm gonna shoot you both if you don’t say what’s on your mind”
He said “wait I hear somebody coming up the stairs”
And I'm looking at the door
He says “I think you better sit down in the chair”
I said “I'm gonna count to 4”
“1…”
he says “mister wait!”
“2…”
he says “please don’t shoot”
“3…”
"he says “don’t shoot me”
“4…”
She screams
Then a knock on the door
The gun’s in my hand
He opens the door
I’ll be goddammned it’s a man
(man… man… man…)

But, wait, you're probably saying. Those lyrics don't even seem to rhyme consistently. There's no chorus. It doesn't even resemble a song. How can you sing that? The answer is, you don't. If you're R. Kelly, you choose to instead melodically speak all of the lines, occasionally building up to a bit of a frenzy at the more dramatic parts and always ending with an echo on the last word. ("Man...man...man..." "Rubber...rubber...rubber" "Midget...midget...midget.")

Wait... a midget? Yes there is a midget in the dramatic world of "Trapped in the Closet." A midget named "Big Man" to be exact. In fact, this is a rundown of what you'll find should you choose to take the journey into R. Kelly's deluded imagination:

Number of extramarital affairs: 6
Number of extramarital affairs involving a pastor and his deacon: 1
Number of extramarital affairs involving a fat southern white trash chick and an anatomically "blessed" midget: 1
Number of weapons pulled: 3 guns, 1 knife, 1 spatula
Number of crusty, wig-wearing ho's: 1
Number of times R. Kelly sings his sound effects: 2 (police siren, phone ringing)
Number of times R. Kelly sings "I said," "She said," or "He said:" too many damn times to count.

Trust me, this is something that has to be seen to be believed. And once you're done with Chapters 1-12, mosey on over to iFilm.com to watch the "live" performance of an alternate Chapter 6 on the MTV Video Music Awards, where R. Kelly peforms the parts of Sylvester, Cathy, Chuck and Rufus all by himself, oftentimes without even bothering to open his mouth to lip synch the words. It is a sight to behold.