Max Martin, another Swedish prodigy (apart from the entity that is ABBA and the now deceased ΛVICII–damn, the Swedes really love to stylize their monikers), has put the success of Taylor Swift’s reputation. behind him to bring us the first single from Ariana Grande’s upcoming fourth album, entitled “No Tears Left to Cry.” An appropriate single after the almost year long hiatus Grande took from the spotlight in the wake of the Manchester Arena bombing that occurred during her Dangerous Woman Tour on May 22, 2017, “No Tears Left to Cry” might, at first glance, seem to be a song promoting apathy, but ultimately espouses the notion that, after a certain point, no matter how severe the PTSD, you must keep going on your merry way.
Like an M. C. Escher drawing come to life, Dave Meyers sets the stage of Grande’s redemption in a multi-dimensional world where edifices will never disappoint her. In many ways, it’s kind of like an architect’s wet dream. Beginning in an ornate hallway, Grande soon starts walking along the ceiling like it ain’t no big deal, an indication that even if the world’s been turned upside down, she’s going to carry on as best as she can, in hair extensions and a ball gown. The next scene takes us to Grande caught amid a tangle of twinkling white lights that she seems content to stay in until a staircase pierces through the upside down cityscape and she’s now blonde and wearing some metallic silver dress that Paris Hilton would have been spotted in circa ’02.
As she sings, “Can’t stop now, can’t stop, so shut your mouth/Shut your mouth, and if you don’t know/Then now you know it, babe [yes, Notorious B.I.G. is owed a songwriting credit]/Know it, babe, yeah,” the narrative digresses into a faint rehashing of Singin’ in the Rain, with Grande styled in a white cupcake silhouette dress with polka dots (something only a true waif can make work) and knee-high black stiletto boots. At this juncture, a gaggle of men dressed like Britney Spears in the “Me Against the Music” video proceed to dance with umbrellas on one side of the cubed building as Ariana eventually lets herself fall off of it in ecstasy while declaring, “Right now, I’m in a state of mind/I wanna be in like all the time/Ain’t got no tears left to cry.” And since there are none left within her body to shed, she might as well pick herself up with the suspended in the air staircase provided and explain, “So I’m pickin’ it up, pickin’ it up/I’m lovin’, I’m livin’, I’m pickin’ it up/I’m pickin’ it up, pickin’ it up.” We get it, you’re pickin’ it up. It being your former shell of a body in the aftermath of ghastly trauma.
Meyers then switches to a shot of a prismatic Grande urging you to come with her “on another mentality,” which seems, eventually, to grimly translate into her putting on different faces to simulate the emotion she’s no longer capable of conjuring naturally. For how can you feel anything when to do so in processing such a situation would result in feeling too much?
Among the strewn trio of faces expressing sentiment is a piece of paper with a list of words that reads, “R.E.M.,” “God Is A Woman,” “Successful” and “Borderline.” A frazzled mentality indeed. But it’s one that leads her to some semblance of peace and acceptance by the end, as she tosses a ball to her dog that ends up turning into a bee (much to the dog’s dismay, one imagines), the longtime symbol of Manchester, appearing on the city’s coat of arms since the 1800s as a testament to the ceaselessly toiling nature of its denizens. So, too, does Grande ceaselessly toil toward a road to recovery that she has hopefully helped pave for others suffering, not just from the Manchester attacks, but from life in general.
