Video Vanguard: Running With Your Dress Unbuttoned in Gracie Abrams’ “Risk” Music Video

Taking obsession in stride and running through the streets in hopes of mending a broken heart, Gracie Abrams’ “Risk” music video takes listeners on a trip of infatuation fueled by overbearing energy. 

Written by Abby McMorris 

Photo courtesy of Cusica Plus

In the “Risk” music video, Abrams runs wildly through the streets, taking viewers along for the ride as she lets a crush consume her.

Abrams released “Risk,” the first single off of her newest album titled The Secret of Us on May 1, 2024. Soon after, she released the track’s music video, directed by Audrey Hobert, a close friend of Abrams to whom the singer dedicated the video. “Working together on set and at home on our couch is the most fun I have ever had in my life,” she remarked in a post on X the day before the video’s release.

As a rising pop artist, Abrams is still exploring the limits of her artistry. Her previous era, Good Riddance, was melancholic and sorrowful, leaving fans without a hint of what to expect next. The Secret of Us sharply contrasts Abrams’ previous record with its fast pace and upbeat themes. The “Risk” music video sets a precedent for the artist's latest album with its evocations of electrifying freedom, energized confessions, and enveloping angst. 

Showcasing Abrams in a personable, relatable light, the video keeps the audience on edge, mirroring the overlapping emotions of a newfound and exciting crush. Begging to be seen, begging to sleep, Abrams personifies what it means to be delusionally energetic and tired of trying to run away from yourself. 

“Risk” on video depicts the emotional exhaustion of obsessing over someone you feel so close yet so far from. Abrams’ fast-paced movements and expressive emotions leave the viewer all over the place — like she is. She’s ironically begging for the opposite things: to jump in and fall for someone, but also fall back into bed and forget her feelings. 

Abrams shows viewers a vision of that fantasy we all act out in the mirror —  a conversation, interaction, or confession with an all-encompassing crush. At first listen, “Risk” sounds like a passionate, personal diary entry. However, the creative direction of Abrams’ close confidant, Hobert, transforms the track into a rant to a trusted best friend. The camera grabs viewers as it keeps a close eye on Abrams and follows her throughout the unfolding diary-esque song.

Abrams is overly animated yet still raw and authentic as she moves through the motions of infatuation in the video. Her over-the-top mannerisms reflect the vulnerability one showcases when venting to a second version of themselves, such as their best friend or their diary. From sticking her tongue out to rolling her eyes, Abrams shows a sarcastic side to herself that fans may often not see. The fourth wall is continuously broken throughout the video, as if Abrams is singing directly to the audience, urging them to join her in her reeling.   

Bare-faced and wine-drunk, Abrams shocks friends at a birthday party as she smashes the cake, shoves food in her face, and creates self-made chaos while disregarding the comfort of those around her. She accessorizes the video with horrified looks from everyone in the room as she moves through the stages of debating the risk she’s going to take before deciding to jump right in.

While listening to the song feels like sitting in on a juicy gossip session, the video serves as a confessional directly from Abrams to the viewer. Each of her actions captures the childlike eagerness of obsessing over your silliest, most ardent crushes. She dresses up for no reason, runs to no one, and drinks to fill the void while food flies and friends fret. The frequent fourth wall-breaks make viewers feel like they’re listening to her go through this risky decision-making process, just as a friend would. The video is set over a matter of days, blurred together into just a matter of minutes. Going through a chaotic obsession with a best friend can often feel like this way —- temporary, but tiringly long.  

The rapid beat of the song sets the pace for the music video. “Risk” feels fast, energized, and active. Similar to its older sister from the same record, “That’s So True,” “Risk” gets you ready to run. The video fleshes out the sonic high of the song that mirrors the feeling before you jump headfirst into something — or someone — new. In contrast, when Abrams finishes the bridge, “Why aren't you here in my bedroom? / Hopelessly boring without you / Too soon to tell you I love you / Too soon to tell you I love you,” the chaos comes to a halt. She’s alone, only temporarily, then goes back to scaring partygoers with her fervor. While the majority of the song invokes a rushed, hasty feeling, moments of realization and reeling represent the quiet amidst the chaos of a crush. You come up for air but then go back to drowning.

A purposefully over-dramatic reaction to a silly crush that you “haven’t even met yet,” the video captures the fleeting fancies of a hopeless romantic. Unabashedly embarrassing yourself in front of friends is what “Risk” was meant to be, not a private confession of obsession. It’s the display of desperation that many know all too well when they have a risk they want to take — telling someone how you really feel or simply accepting the feelings yourself.

The conclusion of the video leaves the audience to wonder: Is the risk not acting on it at all? As Abrams and her unidentified “obsession” leave in different directions. While Abrams continues running full speed ahead, the video ends with many questions unanswered.

Is running alone the risk we all are meant to take?