Pitchfork

A few weeks back we told you about the Decemberists' new video for "O Valencia", directed by Aaron Stewart, the same gentleman behind the band's award-winning video for "16 Military Wives". Now we're thrilled to premiere the full-length director's cut of "O Valencia", which weighs in at a more action-packed, bloodier, and double-crossing ten minutes.

At first glance the video feels a lot more serious than the satirical "16 Military Wives". But "O Valencia", despite its heavier tone, has a few lighthearted moments, like its tableau scenes of mysterious gangs, its dramatic betrayals, and a much, much different ending from the original video (which was cut to a shorter length for MTV airplay). But here, more so than before, the band look like they truly love acting, with Meloy particularly relishing his dramatic turn.

Aaaand, you can also download the director's cut in iPod video format here:

iPod Video Download: > The Decemberists: "O Valencia" (Director's Cut) [iPod Video]

Plus, director Aaron Stewart was nice enough to take a moment to answer a few of our questions about the new version.

Pitchfork: Who came up with the concept for this video?

I am taking responsibility. I heard that Justin Timberlake was doing a 10-minute video with Scarlett Johansson and I thought, well, I can definitely stretch something out to 10 minutes. And I don't need Scarlett. I have Chris Funk. You might know him as a well known comedy player from such luminous variety shows as "The Colbert Report". He's also a better actor. [But] I always run my ideas past Colin. Colin obviously has a really strong sense of narrative. I think it's tricky with this band because the songs' stories are so strong.

Pitchfork: The video's got a great balance of humor and violence, whereas "16 Military Wives" was much more satirical. Why the darker slant?

I think one of the guiding principles of this band-- and I'm not speaking for them, this is just an intuitive observation-- is that they are fearless. Some of that is guided by a well-honed lack of embarrassment. It's sort of giving into your passions no matter how much people make fun of you, or even being aware of how silly it is. Bands constantly get pigeonholed by the press, their labels, and video directors. The easy thing to do would be "the band are in Victorian dress while CG dirigibles float by." It was also time to sort of break that and try for something other than twee-ness and archaism. I think a failing of this video is almost that it's not violent enough.

Pitchfork: The way the shorter video ends is a false ending. Was it just the time constraint that factored into the shorter video ending with the most traditional, love-story ending?

The good thing about [hosting videos] online is it's a good time to experiment. Capitol offered us the budget to shoot on 35mm as long as we could try and do something different, so I was asked to do multiple endings. As you see it here there are three endings but they all ended up working in a complete cut.

Pitchfork: Where was the video shot?

We shot in a motel complex in Portland, Ore. on the interstate, which has some incredible motel façades stuck in the 50s. They're dwindling. Across the street was a really dodgy complex we scouted but during the scout a meth deal went down. A block away is trendy restaurants and an organic supermarket. That's what all of Portland is like now.

The family who owned the complex were incredibly friendly, and one thing I can't forget is this family that lived in a motel room between all the ones we were shooting in. We shot on a really really cold night, below freezing. And at about 1:00 a.m. on a Sunday night this guy pops his head out and asks me if any of my crew need hand-warmers cause he has some. I tell him we're OK but he's an incredibly nice guy. To which he says, "No, you don't know me, I'm not." And the way he said it had weight, you know. This incredible mix of generosity hinting at something dangerous. The place was perfect. And I doubt, sadly, it'll be standing within a decade. That place is the epitome of Portland and also a sign of what's vanishing from its landscape.