I suspect that for many of us, this past Thanksgiving was pretty surreal, at least when compared to your life’s normal experiences with the holiday. This whole year’s been a little surreal, and I’m not interested in fighting that anymore. I just want to embrace it, which is why I’d like to bring to your attention one of the most criminally underrated vehicles in music videos, the Björk’s Big-Arse truck from her Army of Me video (directed by Michel Gondry), the same video where she fights a gorilla dentist for a gem found in her mouth.
Really, when you think about it, it’s pretty horrible to realise that it’s been 25 years since this song and video were released, and I don’t think there’s been any significant gorilla dentist content at all in that whole time, whether portrayed antagonistically (as in here) or sympathetically. How can that be?
If you’re not familiar with the video, here you go:
It’s not just the big-arse truck that’s an automobilist’s treat here; to get a sense of the scale of the truck, we start with a nice shot of this oddly re-grilled Bugeye Sprite, piloted by what appears to be a salty old sea Cap’n:
Soon we pan up, revealing the imposing pediment of the truck’s grille, slathered in massive twitching insects, and sporting a rakish six-headlamp setup:
Björk’s tiny head emphasises the scale of the beast quite well.
The truck appears to be an eight-wheeler, at least, and is either hauling a load of ductwork and pipes or has an absurdly massive and complex exhaust setup:
I’m quite impressed with the instrumentation shown in the truck, which is extensive, to say the least. The engine-turned dashboard is a classy touch, though I am a bit disappointed to see that there’s no A/C, just a dash-mounted fan, like you’d find in an LLV Postal truck.
Unlike many fictional vehicles used in music videos, we actually get to see under the hood of this brute, as Björk has to do a bit of maintenance on it, rising up to the level of the hood via some manner of extendo-tube that could be part of the truck or part of her pants or boots; it’s not terribly clear.
The powerplant of the truck is unexpected; there are two banks of teeth instead of pistons, 14 in total, which makes sense, as the truck is huge, and it’s likely an 8-toother just wouldn’t be able to get the job done.
I’m not sure what to make of the grizzled prospector-like guy who emerges from the truck’s maw, accompanied by foul-smelling green smoke. I guess he was causing some sort of engine issues?
Whatever he was, Björk seems to be glad to be rid of him, and returns with the now-gigantic gem that the Dr. Gorilla, DDS extracted from her mouth, then attempted to steal before getting his hairy arse whupped by the tiny Icelander, who dropped it into the engine compartment, solving the problem or re-fuelling the truck, or something?
I’m not entirely clear what was going on or how, exactly, this manner of truck works, but I’m telling you now that I’m pretty certain you can’t find a better mouth-engined, gem-powered, colossal truck in any music video involving a gorilla dentist.
Period.