Madonna Louise Ciccone has never starred in the celebrity self-aggrandizement exercise that is Vogue’s “73 Questions” video series. Whether that’s of her own volition or the magazine simply hasn’t asked her, I respect the fact that she’s never feigned baking cupcakes or reading a book from a conveniently placed stack in an impeccably manicured garden. Frankly, I admire her all the more for producing her own play on the video series, clearly poking fun at the absurdity of elites inviting the terminally online into their multimillion-dollar homes so they can answer questions in the hopes of appearing human.
In, “Finally Enough Talk: 50 Questions With Madonna,” the Grammy-Award winner spends approximately 6 minutes and fifty-five seconds reminding us that she couldn’t give less of a shit about maintaining any allusion that she is just like us. However, she does use the word “sex” about as often as a child who’s just learned its meaning.
Akin to the famed magazine’s video series, a pantless Madge stalks around her sprawling property—in what appears to be the dead of night—and answers fifty questions submitted by fans and prompted by an AI voice. However, the similarities to “73 Questions” end there.
Does she have pets? Yes. But she “doesn’t remember” their names. What’s her favorite perfume? Dominique Ropion’s Portrait Of A Lady, which goes for $420 for a 100ml bottle. If she were to wear one thing for the rest of her life, what would it be? A 24-carat gold vibrator necklace. What kind of music does she listen to? “Good music.” Right on!
Somehow, it gets better. The setting ranges from chic (her closet) to sinister (what appears to be the kind of expansive wood shed Leatherface would frequent). At one point, she hops behind the wheel of a golf cart and proclaims to the camera that she’s going to the farm. The farm—from what we can actually make out—is complete with chickens and horses, of which we briefly meet when she feeds them carrots and wonders aloud if we notice how very phallic they are. I hadn’t, actually.
All of this would be distracting if not for her exceedingly funny answers and their bizarre flourishes (wielding a riding crop, excessive twirling, etc.) Any and all summaries of the Q&A in the press have unfairly emphasized Madge’s candor about regretting her two marriages or her apparent affinity for copulating. She feels shame about her past husbands. So? If I’d married Sean Penn or Guy Ritchie, I’d be a little embarrassed too!
Her current obsession? “Sex.” Life mantra? “Sex.” Secret to success? “Sex.” What keeps her going? “Sex.” Astrological sign? “Sex.”
If we’re going to get technical, the woman is a Leo, which makes her answers all the more classic considering Leos do tend to brag about how many uglies they’re supposedly bumping. But anyway! Are we surprised? She likes singing about sex so much she has a song explicitly named, “S.E.X.” for fucks sake. Get over it.
Her favorite snack? “I can’t remember his name...oh no! Big dick,” she laments—as if the folks tuning in at home will offer names in an attempt to help her recall the identity of “big dick” and what made him so worth a nibble.
Eventually, Madge becomes so bored with the electronic voice’s questioning that she picks up a rope from her shed and threatens to hang herself. But she still revealed her alter ego (Ita, a hypothetical mistress), alternative career (school teacher), dream collaboration (Kendrick Lamar), and biggest inspiration (Freida Kahlo). I would have loved for her to answer 23 more questions but, the woman has a remix album to promote, a biopic to put out, and a daughter’s burgeoning music career to be “proud” of. She clearly ran out of time.
Like the Vogue series, I learned nothing. Yet somehow, the Queen of Pop’s own iteration taught me everything.