Stromae’s animated music video Carmen is one of the most striking portrayals of social media culture I’ve seen. It begins simply: a blue bird — clearly inspired by Twitter — perches on the shoulder of a young Stromae. At first, it seems harmless, even cute. But as Stromae feeds it more attention, the bird grows. And grows. And grows.
Every time Stromae posts a picture, his appearance shifts toward something exaggerated and hyper-attractive. The bird becomes heavier. His posture bends. His time, energy, and identity slowly drain into the glowing screen in his hands. His real world shrinks while his online world expands.
This mirrors Lacie’s journey in Nosedive. Both characters reshape themselves to please a system — Stromae chasing followers, Lacie chasing ratings. Both sacrifice authenticity in exchange for attention.
One scene in Carmen hit me especially hard: Stromae sits at a restaurant, ignoring his food and the people around him. The bird devours everything instead — time, presence, joy. And the lyrics say it outright:
“Fake smiles are just like hashtag stunts.”
It’s a perfect metaphor for the performances people put on for social media, portraying a version of themselves that isn’t always real.
As the video continues, Stromae becomes increasingly isolated. Even when he forms what seems like a real connection with a girl in the park, he can’t maintain it. He’s present on the phone but absent in the relationship. The conflict between his inner wants and his outward actions grows wider until it breaks the relationship entirely.
In the climax, the bird literally carries him away, along a neon path filled with other oversized birds dragging celebrities and political figures — showing how widespread this struggle is. Eventually, Stromae is swallowed whole by a giant bird. His authenticity is gone, consumed by the identity he crafted for others.
The final shot — the bird returning to another child’s window — reminds us that this cycle continues unless we choose to break it.
Reflecting on the story, I also see pieces of my own life in it. Sometimes I get so focused on being “perfect” everywhere I go — online, at school, with friends — that I lose track of what I actually care about. It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of performing, curating, and adjusting myself to fit what others expect. But Stromae’s journey leaves a strong reminder:
If we let social pressure shape who we are, we risk losing the parts of ourselves that matter most — our values, relationships, and sense of self.
Authenticity is not automatic in today’s world.
It’s something we must actively protect.