In the dark, disturbing musical short film for the new song, “Brown Rice” by Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Natti Vogel, Matthew Wilkas portrays “Brady” – a handsome, fit, Instagram famous, and “name in the local gay scene” guy who finds he’s completely empty inside – trading his image for money and body for drugs to cope.
You’ll recall Wilkas from his new web series “The Matt & Dan Show” which I’ve recently featured here or from his now-famous slope-side kiss with bf Gus Kenworthy at the Winter Olympics.
“Brown Rice” is from Vogel’s six-track EP, Serving Body, released this past January which explores the topic of body image. “Each song on my record is about the ways we value or don’t value bodies, our own and others,” Vogel recently told Billboard.
Vogel says the lyrics in “Brown Rice,” were inspired by an article about Ryan Reynold. The lines “I eat only brown rice/ Just not after 8 p.m.” are almost a direct riff on the Deadpool star whose training for a movie allowed eating complex carbs, but only before early evening.
Via press release:
The video brings mental health, sexual health, toxic masculinity, and critique of vain social media culture to the forefront of the national conversation. In juxtaposition with Wilkas and Kenworthy’s historic Olympic kiss, “Brown Rice” breaks down the myth of an equal society and illuminates the issues still plaguing modern gay culture. Issues further exacerbated by Instagram society’s pressure to adhere to certain beauty standards. What goes on behind the scenes with those beautiful people who seem to have it all, exalted for relationship goals and blessed lifestyles?
I know the stories in films can sometimes seem like just “movie-land,” but without judgement I can say I knew guys just like this back in the 90s and 2000s when I was living in NYC. Men who were the “it guys” of the minute at the gym, on Broadway or the clubs; who placed body image and appearance above just about everything.
Many of those guys would party on all through the night, doing the “drug of the day,” and then spend the next day recovering in time to make it to their theaters or jobs.
While I dabbled in the club scene going out with groups of friends at the time, I never got heavily into that scene in great part because I couldn’t afford to go out all the time. Plus, the pressure to “keep up” with the “10s” was a lot.
While today I can look at photos of myself at the time and think, “Hey, I didn’t look bad at all,” in my own way I had my own body image issues, I guess. I wasn’t sure I was “good enough” to run with that crowd. Man, the stuff we put on ourselves when we’re young and gay in the big city.
Now, with the advent of “Instagram celebs” and OnlyFans sites, where fitness guys or porn stars can make money directly from fans paying $10-15 a month for “exclusive” (wink-wink) material, I think the pressure to live up to unbelievable standards has reached new heights.
And to do this they have to keep up the image. The fitness, the “sexy,” the perfection.
To be clear, I don’t think it’s all doom and gloom behind the scenes of the InstaFamous.
Kudos to director Eamon Foley for capturing “Brady’s” personal discontent without going over the top into unbridled despair.
The juxtaposition of Vogel’s pensive song set against the backdrop of “Brady’s” melancholy is a somber yet striking metaphor.
You can explore more of Vogel’s music on Spotify here; follow him on Instagram here; and his official website is here.
