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Mario- Let Me Love You

Now the premise of this video seems to be our protagonist Mario trying to convince the girlfriend of one of his acquaintances that he is the superior male, and he should, as the title suggests, let him “love” them. Now, the first obvious question this throws up is; if we are to take this literally, why does Mario need permission? The song should in fact be called “I Love You Irrespective of Your Feelings Towards Me and Apparent Lack of Availability, Dating-Wise’”

The more likely interpretation, however, is Mario constructing a love song around the premise that, due to his procurement of questionably decorated loft apartments and bicycles (how and why are they in there? Does the building not have a garage? Surely some kind of storage facility would have been better) that he should be her ‘selection’ for sole admission into her brown pleasure palace, and not the perfume and make-up wearing guy she is currently wearing. But who in fact is the better selection?

Our first encounter with the lady in question, a sweaty Mario leers from his loft window onto the conveniently placed domestic going on in what appears to be a very well lit alley way. Mario seems convinced the lady ‘enjoys being hurt’ when factual evidence displayed RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM shows the only one being pushed around, doubted and generally mocked is the male he is trying to usurp. I mean, sure, Mario may be privy to information on the guy’s philandering ways, but the poor guy is getting publicly beat down.

Mario goes on to outright say that, if he was your man, he would be coming home to you “every night, doing you right”. Would you also be wearing that blazer Mario? Would you also be doing a dance routine in front of the large mirror you had installed in a room that could have quite easily been used as a utility room or an additional bedroom?

On reflection, throughout the video, the only real thing Mario offers is questionable dance routines of a sub-Usher standard, and rooms spacious enough for said dance routines. He is essentially running some kind of Community Kids Club. The audacity of the man: “hey guys, why don’t you all come over to my crib and watch me dance. The vintage chrome bicycles outnumber the actual seating options, and the entire performance is going to be completely undermined by the fact it will be solely dedicated to seducing this girl, but hey, look at the awesome graffiti. I had my guy Sven do it. He said it was ‘so two-thousand-and-helloooooooo’”.

Now, I haven’t been to many urban loft dance parties, but I sure know I would be uncomfortable if, despite the crowd evidently ‘feeling it’, one of those in attendance leapt to their feet and started dancing along provocatively, very much on their own. If I was watching the Philharmonic orchestra and really enjoying it, I wouldn’t just jump out of my seat and start humming some Chopin to show my appreciation. I would probably just nod my head and look intense, like the gent in the Yankees cap trying very, very hard to focus on the dancing of Mario and friends, and not the bizarre lady in lilac next to him.

Just as Mario thinks the night is over and he is ready for a night of postulating alone on one of his chrome penis-enlagers, HARK! It would appear our protagonists dance-sleaze attack has worked, as the lilac bitch returns. (As a side note, how utterly shit are the silhouettes of the male and female figures on this door? It also makes it look like she’s coming out of the girls toilets. After a massive poo.)

Now, I’m not really too sure what happens next, lilac bitch is suddenly in different clothes, and they are both dancing in the middle of the room. Have they just banged, showered, got dressed and are now doing a celebration jig? That would seem somewhat callous and a little strange. This goes on for an uncomfortably long time and would appear to take the place of extended scenes of them banging. Because frankly, I’m surprised everyone in attendance at Mario’s dance party aren’t forming an orderly queue to smash him, his skills were so silky and provocative, the all-white wearing bastard.

Also, Mario, I don’t really like your tone at 3.41. Don’t ‘hey’ me. You haven’t been subjected to 3+ minutes of you sleazing via the medium of dance. Their sex dance is STILL FUCKING GOING ON at this point too. She came back for some ‘good love and protection’ (at least he’s being careful) at 2.41, and an ENTIRE MINUTE later they’re still pirouetting the fuck out of each other. Like, 30% of this entire video is dance-sex…

OH SNAP, THEY’RE ON THE FLOOR. HIS PLOT WORKED. The sly fox. I bet he’s knackered. Practicing in front of his big mirror all night, after a boxing and perving session, then group practice the following day and then the big performance, followed by an impromptu bout of foreplay dance. And the lilac bitch expects him to rock her world? By the look on the smug bastard’s face at 4.24, he like, totally did.

So what have we learned? Well, Mario is certainly committed to the art of convincing girls to cheat on their boyfriends with well rehearsed dance routines in apartments that seem completely uninhabitable (he has three bikes but no bed? Where is his kitchen?) and the girl in his targets has little to no morals. She has buckled under little more than speculation about her boyfriends antics, a bit of make-up on his shirt and the smell of perfume. What if I were to tell you that HE HAD BEEN VISITING HIS MOTHER WHO WAS DYING OF CANCER IN THE HOSPICE AND HAD SPRAYED SOME OF HER PERFUME TO REMIND HIM OF HOW SHE HAD BROUGHT HIM UP SINGLE HANDEDLY ON ONE INCOME AND WANTED TO REMEMBER HER AS SHE PASSED ON INTO THE AFTERLIFE, THE LAST ROSE PETAL DRIFTING OFF INTO THE ETHER, A DEFEATED WOMAN. 

As a side note. The girl’s boyfriend hung himself after the filming of this video.

Mario, I hope she was worth it.