The Gift of Lemonade
After Beyoncé surprised the world with the release of her self-titled fifth album, Beyoncé, without the pomp and circumstance of a traditional roll out, I became a more ecstatic fan of her music as Beyoncé explored, among other things, her insecurities, sexuality, and motherhood, bringing even more honesty and grit to her songs. With every album that Beyoncé drops, each of them a classic with their own distinct vibe, she always manages to top herself, capturing the evolution of her talent every single time. The stunning visuals that accompanies each track of her self-titled album, delve deeper into her creativity, imagination, and artistry, proving that she is an artist who cares to evolve and remain relevant, which is impressive and astounding in this climate where longevity is hard to maintain. I didn’t know how she could top the show- stopping release of Beyoncé; however, she did just that with the drop of her visual album on HBO, Lemonade. Watching Lemonade was an intense and visceral experience, a night of emotions I’ll always remember. That night, with her art, Beyonce was vulnerable, raw, explosive, and real, and I want to revisit that special night where the biggest star in the world became human with her confessions, and simultaneously proved with her performance why she is a martian.
“Pray You Catch Me”
I was hypnotized from the moment the screen was filled by a cornrowed Beyoncé, leaning against a car in a fur coat. The image was so gritty I excitedly sat on the edge of my cushioned seat, while my boyfriend was in the kitchen cooking quesadillas for the show. As the film commenced, I was captivated by images of Beyoncé in a wooden bath tub; a bare faced Beyoncé standing in a field; a genuflecting Beyoncé atop a theatre stage, belting out a ballad to which the words, at that moment, were drowned out by the sheer excitement and anticipation of new material. As the ballad continued, interspersed by spoken word, I sank into the couch, relaxing to the tender and vulnerable tone of the song without truly grasping the message. I was excited for the night I was in for.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
I’m prayin’ to catch you whispering
I pray you catch me listening
I pray you catch me
“Hold Up”
This is when things get juicy. As Beyoncé’s question, “Are you cheating on me,” echoed on our speakers, my boyfriend turned to me and asked incredulously, “Did Jay-Z cheat on Beyoncé?” The thought hadn’t occurred to me, so entranced was I with Beyoncé’s gorgeous, yellow flowing dress, exiting a palatial building while a reggae-tinged beat began; however, my jaw dropped in response to the inquiry and after that all I could feel was rage on behalf of this ill-treated woman. Which is appropriate, as we observe with awe an angry and vengeful Beyoncé taking a bat to public property, literal fire flaring behind her, no doubt ignited by her own maniacal wrath. Almost any woman can relate to this situation of snooping through your significant other’s phone only to find incriminating evidence that he has indeed done you wrong. Filled with possessive fury, it’s only natural that the woman we see on our screens would risk looking crazy and I’m truly on board with her lashing out at anything in sight!
Middle-fingers-up moment:
What’s worse? Lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous and crazy
Or, like, being walked all over lately, walked all over lately
I’d rather be crazy
“Don’t Hurt Yourself”
“It’s about to get grimy,” my boyfriend teases, peaking his head into the living room, a twisted Joker sneer plastered across his face as the banger blares on the surround sound; and he isn’t kidding: my jaw is on the floor as we’re led back to the parking lot from the opening scene to a pissed off Beyoncé with her dancers lounging on and around a vehicle. Everything comes to a screeching halt as Beyoncé spits the braggadocious question, “Who the fuck do you think I is?” This sequence is intense and simultaneously intimate as we bear witness to this woman’s explosive rage, her gut wrenching accusations; for the first time, I don’t question whether Beyoncé is the Michael Jackson of our generation—she is. “Don’t Hurt Yourself” is an emotional, cinematic performance where Beyoncé metamorphosed into Daenerys Targaryen, a bold woman cognizant of her own worth, indignant of what was stolen from her. This is not a woman willing to blame herself for her husband’s indiscretions; far from it— she knows she gives him life, and to play her is to play himself. She doesn’t doubt herself because there is nothing she did to lead her man astray; instead, she exclaims she’s too much for him. Doesn’t he know who she is?
From Beyoncé’s slinky wardrobe, to her braided hair and fiery fury, the visuals for this track (and Malcom X’s message that “the most disrespected person in America is the Black woman”) are eerily haunting; this is Beyoncé’s “Thriller.” For what’s more monstrous than offering to become your husband’s mistress, just so you can keep license over his heart? Onscreen, Beyoncé masterfully emotes the raw vulnerability of the jilted spouse, her sneers inviting anyone to dare cross her without getting burned. She’s entirely convincing and authentic in the role, which is why her art evokes palpable emotions.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
You ain’t married to no average bitch, boy
You can watch my fat ass twist, boy
As I bounce to the next dick, boy
“Sorry”
The celebration of Beyoncé’s Black roots illustrated in the Formation video carries over to the film, so deep in the beauty of blackness, as we enter a grand Southern house, camera sweeping past a large, wrap around porch, and settling on Beyoncé in a black body suit lounging on a throne-like chair. When this song began, I wanted to jump out of my seat and somersault around my living room, raising my middle fingers to invisible cheaters who’d never deign to assume I was partying to forget his indiscretions. For two minutes, I wanted my boyfriend to do something unforgivable so I could say to him, “Boy, bye!” I wanted to hop aboard Beyoncé’s party bus and leave behind any man troubles, “chucking my deuces up,” all with the thought that I was better off without him, and if he thinks I’ll be miserable while he’s with her, he has another thing coming. With this anthem, we could get through any man’s trifling wrongdoing; with this film, the evolution of Beyoncé is at its peak.
The infectious “Sorry” made us want to show any player that we’ll be out with our girls, unperturbed, too fine to condescend sparing his cheating ass a thought—if Beyoncé can live a good life post break-up so can we. Throughout this visual album, Beyoncé speaks directly to her husband, which is incredulous coming from a woman who, early in her career, hid the fact that she was married. We’ve never been privy to this side of Beyoncé before—suspicious, hurt, vehement—as she allows herself to be translucent about her flawed relationship, a partnership that up until the moment of the elevator incident, had been praised as the quintessential “power couple.” But in Lemonade, Beyoncé is one of us, a woman vulnerable to betrayal.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
Me and my baby, we gon’ be alright
We gon’ live a good life
Big Homie better grow up
Me and my whoadies ‘bout to stroll up
“6 Inch”
While “Don’t Hurt Yourself” was Beyoncé’s best performance in Lemonade, I think “6 Inch” is her most iconic, gorgeously cinematic visual. “6 Inch” palpitates with electric energy as we view the scene through a seductive red filter, the background amplified by crackling fire, and the slow beating of drums quickening to lead up to the main event: In the back of a limousine, beneath a voluminous hat that obscures the passenger’s eyes, thunders a deep, sultry voice as Beyoncé once again impresses us with her voice and sheer presence; in this visual, she’s never looked or sounded better. Iconic was the first word that popped into my head as this video played out, trailed closely behind by another: Epic.
The collaboration with The Weeknd, an artist whose own songs are rife with themes of drugs, hollowness, and pain, is apropos for “6 Inch”, a song about emptiness; it’s about succumbing to the numbness of throwing yourself into a daily grind without fully filling the void of a lover’s absence. In this stage of the film (each song loosely guided by the Kübler-Ross model), stunning visuals illustrate the loss of our subject as she’s often seen alone, in the backseat of a limousine or lying distraught on a bed. As previously seen in Beyoncé’s works, she succeeds in conjuring strong, vivid images that will perpetually resonate with the viewer.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
Too smart to crave material things
Stacking her paper
Stacking her cake up
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
“Daddy Lessons”
As the horns blared, all I could think about was Beyoncé’s relationship with her father and how, unintentionally, she now shares a common denominator with her mother: both have been disrespected by their husbands; both have been confronted by the same curse that ails black families since the time of slavery—abandonment and separation from the family. Her parents’ marriage dissolved because her father broke his marital vows, and now she, Beyoncé, needs to contend with her own husband’s lies. If she forgave her father, why not yield and do the same for her husband to prevent the breakage of a family?
In this jazzy, country number, which delightfully embraces Beyoncé’s Texan roots, she sings about her father’s admonishments; ironically, his instructions to adhere to the second amendment when men like him come around. As Beyoncé sings, my mind is filled with thoughts of a daughter’s devotion to her father (the sacred father-daughter bond), and how even that can be frayed by a father’s errors. I can’t help but think, what is a daddy’s girl to do when the first man she fell in love with bruises the woman she looks everything like? Does she accept the same flaws in her husband?
Middle-fingers-up moment:
When trouble comes in town and men like me come around
Oh, my daddy said shoot
Oh, my daddy said shoot
“Love Drought”
Shot in black and white, you’re immediately touched by the raw sentimentality of the lyrics in this song while Beyoncé is flanked by almost a dozen women, wading into a river, as if she’s garnering strength from the energy in their number. Feelings of insecurity and vulnerability are transparent as Beyoncé questions her husband’s love; essentially, would he love her if she wasn’t Beyoncé? Not since “Jealous” off her self-titled album Beyoncé—a visual album I thought impossible to top! —are we invited into her cloud of doubt; her real emotions. We learn that she reacts like any other woman disturbed by her husband’s actions, grasping to understand what she did wrong to deserve this fate; moreover, like any woman who finds her man’s behavior repugnant, she’s sure to list all the ways she’s been good to him. Just as she informs him of all the ways she has been the best thing for him, she also can’t deny that their love is a superpower.
A powerful image in this video, and throughout the hour-long film, is that of black women standing or sitting together; these women exemplify the fierce, protective bond of sisterhood, a love that can be just as powerful as the love found in carnal relationships. Together, women share many of the same experiences and if we jettison jealousy and insecurity, we can help each other get through any bad moment.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
Spend my life in the dark for the sake of you and me
Only way to go is up, them old bitches so wack
I’m so tough, wassup
“Sandcastles”
Chills ran down my spine (wasn’t I impervious to this by now?) as the scene shifted to Beyoncé in a modern house, wearing a one-shoulder sweatshirt, sitting on the floor in front of her keyboard, large headphones perched atop her curls. It’s shocking because gone are the costumes and perfectly preened hairstyles—this felt like the realest moment of the whole hour. It was like we were transported into Beyoncé’s home, listening in on a private recording session where the lyrics are provokingly honest. When Jay-Z enters the frame, I can’t handle the realness.
“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed, shooting up in the air like a cork. Suddenly the cheating rumors, coupled with the elevator fight, aligned perfectly like a Rubik’s cube with the unveiling of this song. “I get it!” I turned to my boyfriend excitedly, my mind and very soul racing. “Beyoncé is telling us that Jay-Z cheated on her, but she forgave him and now they’re okay! They have Blue and now they’re one happy family!” My whole body trembled like a bobble head on a dashboard as Beyoncé’s confession sunk in and every video prior to “Sandcastles” became a memoir. Witnessing this woman’s undeserving punishment, I asked myself, how dare Jay-Z cheat on her? Who could he have possibly placed on the same pedestal? I was incredulous to the reasoning behind this insanity, and was personally wounded because if Beyoncé was cheated on then none of us are safe.
In “Sandcastles,” Beyoncé proves herself as an actress and performer as her voice breaks, drawing forth strong emotions from within to outwardly express the torment she is experiencing. Jay-Z’s appearance in the video cuddling with his wife in bed, and the kiddie artwork splashed across the screen, remind us that they’re a regular couple with times of tribulation and despite the polished images, wealth and fame, we don’t always know what’s really happening at home. But as Beyoncé iterates, “There is a curse that will be broken,” she will forgive her husband because they need to break past patterns to have a functional family; they must move forward. Even though she might’ve promised she’d leave at the first sign of infidelity, when faced with reality pride must be removed from the equation to determine the best move for everyone affected by the decision, and that is the most savage move of all.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
And although I promised that I couldn’t stay, baby
Every promise doesn’t work out that way, oh, babe
“Freedom”
The Black Lives Matter movement has a stirring, emotional presence in this visual album with the participation of mothers holding pictures of their murdered sons, unnecessary victims of police brutality, and we’re reminded that there are real people who’ve lost their cherished children forever simply because the color of their skin caused intimidation and hatred. It kills me when people are confounded by the phrase “Black Lives Matter” and slickly use political correctness to inverse the meaning by including all races, entirely missing the point of the statement. We have to say black lives because it is black lives being slaughtered at the hands of people who don’t believe that all lives matter. Things can’t change until we believe in everyone’s freedom to life and the pursuit of happiness.
Although we don’t hear the full-length track on the visual album, Kendrick Lamar’s verse on the album speaks out on the perceived freedom that Blacks have now that they are free from the chains of slavery, but perception is not reality and people of color don’t really live in total freedom. The vocals we do get from Lamar in the film are painfully beseeching, asking the one question we’ve all asked of the man who’s supposed to be reigning over all of us: Oh, Father, can you hear me? Cruel injustice exists and it makes me wonder if there is anyone really in control of the universe, or if it’s true that there’s no real pattern to anything except chaos.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
I break chains all by myself
Won’t let my freedom rot in hell
Hey! Ima keep running
‘Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves
“All Night Long”
Footage from home videos of Beyoncé’s marriage ceremony, her mother’s wedding, and other personal moments make me hopeful about love after pain. Poignant is the joy we observe on Beyoncé’s mother’s face, a woman cheated on by her husband from a decades’ long marriage, who ultimately overcomes her loss by finding love again. Beyoncé tells us that her man will have to rebuild her trust, “make the woman in doubt disappear”; nevertheless, she has decided to stay with him, break the curse, and start over again. The candid clip at the end of Beyoncé playing cheerfully with her family could’ve happened only through forgiveness and resilience.
It’s true that while many women claim they’ll leave their men at the first sign of infidelity, at the first bruise towards their pride, not all do—not the first time, anyway. True love is shelter and warmth as evidenced by the happy couples interspersed throughout the scenes; sometimes to get that happy ending means being the bigger person and turning your bad memories into good ones. That’s what life is about: making lemonade when life hands you lemons, turning sour situations into sweet ones.
Middle-fingers-up moment:
Oh nothing real can be threatened
True love breathes salvation back into me
With every tear came redemption
And my torturer became my remedy
As “Formation” resounded inside the walls of our living room, I was shaking, talking vehemently to my boyfriend, spitting sparks like a furnace, processing what I had just seen and experienced, unable to control my thoughts. I damned Jay-Z (for that night, anyway) for doing Beyoncé so wrong—Beyoncé, a woman who is beautiful, multi-talented, hard-working…in what world does this happen to a woman like that? I was utterly perplexed at the workings of the male mind, and as my head hit the pillow, flashes from Lemonade swirled in my head, leaving me trembling, tossing and turning all night. The next morning, my boyfriend and I stood on our balcony discussing what we’d witnessed the night before. He said something that shook me. “We have to remember, Beyoncé is an artist. Remember Usher’s Confessions wasn’t about him.” Even so, we were blown away by Beyonce’s authenticity and vulnerability. Whether entirely autobiographical or not, I was in awe of this woman who used her art to be incredibly honest about marriage and black lives. It will be an album that’ll be around forever, a model of a work of art that inspired emotion and led to conversation.
Beyoncé. Lemonade. Directed by Beyoncé Knowles, Kahlil Joseph and Melina Matsoukas, Parkwood Entertainment LLC, Columbia, 2016.