Video Song Model : Rihanna Shift To "Good Morning America"

Video Song Model : Rihanna Shift To "Good Morning America"

"When I realized that my selfish decision for love could result into some young girl getting killed, I could not be easy with that part," the singer said. "I couldn’t be held responsible for telling them, 'Go back.' Even if Chris never hit me again, who’s to say their boyfriend won’t? Who’s to say they won’t kill these girls? These are young girls, and I just didn’t realize how much of an an impact I had on these young girls' lives until that happened. It was a wake-up call."

If this telegenic confession tells the real story, Rihanna did not turn away from Brown to protect herself. She did so to shepherd the fans who follow her less significant choices -- in hairstyle, clothes and runway-ready attitude -- away from making a big mistake, as she had.

That's a remarkable admission of distance from her own wounded heart, and a fascinating peek into how celebrities relate to the "personal" lives they now must live almost completely within the public eye.

Rihanna made the right choice, for herself and for those fans about whom she cares so deeply, when she walked away from Brown. She's making more good decisions now, managing her return to the spotlight with dignity and that icy poise for which she's famous. (I also like her risky new single, "Russian Roulette," though my colleague August Brown has some questions about it; you can read his powerful analysis here.)

But isn't it telling that she is spinning her own self-preservation as a move to save other women's lives? Many pop stars shun the mantle of role model; here is a 21-year-old, often accused in the media of being a cipher for her producers and management team, who is not only stepping up to that responsibility but also making it the reason she should nurture herself.

Admirable. Disturbing. Do we want our entertainers to feel our needs so acutely? The feminist in me applauds Rihanna for going on a major network program and telling young women to firmly resist the lure of a dangerous love, to learn to separate themselves from the myths of romance that, in fact, pop songs so often reinforce.

But another part of me wonders why she's telling us she had to step outside herself to take this stand. Rihanna uses words like "embarrassing" and "humiliating" -- words of shame, not of pain or helplessness -- to describe how Brown's assault made her feel. She may say something very different to her family and other intimates. But what we see is a young woman who's finding her greatest strength by remembering that others are always watching her.

But what if, hypothetically, “Roulette” is really, truly, how Rihanna feels about herself, her self-worth and what she wants out of her relationships? No one questions the difficulty of what she’s going through, nor her instinct to trawl the darkest corners of her psyche and public profile for material. By acknowledging these self-destructive feelings, she could help other victims know they aren’t isolated in such thoughts. The best art engenders empathy among its audience, and even the bleakest songs about abuse can work toward those ends. But other such close reads of "Roulette" have to compete with a much bigger and emotionally powerful explanation of the song. It’s tough to see many fans walking away from this reserved and demanding single – filled in by events in Rihanna’s public profile — without an image of abuse that suggests it’s a reflection on your worth as a woman.

Rihanna doesn’t owe us anything, of course, and is entirely entitled to sing about her abuse and emotions about it any way she pleases, even if (especially if?) it makes us deeply uncomfortable. There are many directions on the moral compass that get us to a better understanding of the human heart, and sometimes the best art sets the worst examples. But one wonders if, by sticking to what she has done best – using images suggesting she’s at the mercy of others -- Rihanna made the most of a truly unique opportunity to show us something more of herself.

This is all compounded, again, by how little Rihanna offers us here in the way of clues to decode the song. All the subtext in “Roulette” is inserted by the listener, and that seems entirely purposeful from her and Ne-Yo. While that’s a fascinating device, I’m not sure it does justice to the severity of what a listener naturally will take away from the song. Rihanna is exploring some of the most fraught psychological terrain in human relationships, but she intentionally pulls back whenever any detail threatens to get specific. The silvery detachment of the music – distant reverbs, ephemeral voices -- only adds to the effect. “Roulette” is a song about feeling depersonalized, but it doesn’t offer much forward momentum in exploring that feeling — it just is depersonalized.

Our tabloid-and-Twitter culture has made Rihanna's whole life a performance. Now, she is throwing that reality back in our faces, and we too can feel some embarrassment. Every Web surfer who clicked on the famous picture of her bruised face after the assault contributed to Rihanna's humiliation. Rihanna may be too polite, and too media-savvy, to point that out. But her guarded moves make it clear that her well-earned instinct to flinch remains.

-- Ann Powers

source of shift:google.com