You remember the paper bag. It had "I AM NOT FAMOUS ANYMORE" scribbled in Sharpie across the front. At the time, back in 2014, everyone thought Shia LaBeouf was having a very public, very expensive meltdown. But then something shifted. He didn't just disappear into a spiral of tabloid headlines; he pivoted into one of the most bizarre and fascinating runs of performance art we’ve ever seen from a Hollywood A-lister.
The music video Shia LaBeouf era wasn't just a side project. It was a complete dismantling of his "Transformers" persona.
If you grew up watching him as Louis Stevens, seeing him naked and smeared in dirt in a Sigur Rós video was... a lot. It was jarring. Honestly, it was meant to be. He wasn't just "appearing" in these videos like a typical celebrity cameo for a quick paycheck. He was using the medium to bleed—sometimes literally—for the sake of "metamodernism," a term his collaborators Luke Turner and Nastja Rönkkö used to describe their work together.
The Cage Match That Broke the Internet
We have to talk about "Elastic Heart."
When Sia dropped that video in January 2015, the internet didn't just watch it; it imploded. You had Shia and a then-12-year-old Maddie Ziegler in a giant birdcage. They were wearing nude-colored, dirt-stained dance gear. They weren't just dancing; they were wrestling, biting, and pinning each other down in a way that felt feral.
The backlash was instant. People screamed "pedophilia" and "inappropriate" before the credits even rolled. It got so loud that Sia actually had to apologize on Twitter. She explained that the two of them represented "warring 'Sia' self-states." Basically, they were two halves of the same fractured psyche.
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If you look past the immediate shock value, the performance is actually heartbreaking. Shia’s face in that cage is a masterclass in raw vulnerability. He looks exhausted. He looks like a man who has been fighting himself for decades and is finally losing. Maddie, despite being a child, often comes across as the stronger, more resilient force. It’s a weird, uncomfortable power dynamic that mirrors the messy reality of trauma and addiction.
That’s the thing about a music video Shia LaBeouf stars in—it’s never just a music video. It’s a Rorschach test.
"Actual Cannibal" and the Art of the Meme
Then there’s the Rob Cantor masterpiece.
You know the one. "Shia LaBeouf" (Live). It started as a goofy song by Rob Cantor in 2011 about Shia being a murderous cannibal living in the woods. It was a niche internet joke. But in 2014, Cantor turned it into a high-production, orchestral "Symphonic Oratorio" that felt way more prestigious than a song about eating people had any right to be.
The kicker? The ending.
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The camera pans to the only person in the audience. It’s Shia. He’s wearing a tuxedo. He’s alone in the dark theater, and he starts clapping. He doesn't just clap; he gives a slow, deliberate standing ovation. It was a parody of the famous scene in Citizen Kane, and it was Shia’s way of saying, "I’m in on the joke."
This was a pivot point. Before this, he was the guy people laughed at. After this, he was the guy people laughed with. He leaned into the absurdity of his own celebrity. By participating in a video that depicted him as a literal monster, he took the power away from the people who were trying to demonize him in real life.
It was brilliant. And super weird.
The Rawness of Sigur Rós
Before the cage and the cannibalism, there was "Fjögur Píanó."
This was part of Sigur Rós’s Valtari Mystery Film Experiment in 2012. Directed by Alma Har'el, it’s eight minutes of ambient piano and Shia being completely exposed. There is full-frontal nudity. There is body paint. There are butterflies.
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Har'el said the video was about the cycle of addiction and how we get stuck in loops that hurt the people we love. Shia didn't just act in it; he lived in it. There’s a scene where he’s crying while looking at a wall of photographs, and it feels uncomfortably real. It doesn't feel like a "performance."
Why Does This Even Matter Now?
You might wonder why we’re still talking about these videos years later.
It’s because they changed how we view celebrities. Usually, a movie star uses a music video to look "cool" or "sexy." Shia used them to look ugly, weak, and insane. He broke the "fourth wall" of fame.
He showed that you can be a multi-millionaire blockbuster lead and still feel like a caged animal. He used the music video Shia LaBeouf format to bridge the gap between "Hollywood Product" and "Actual Human Being."
Actionable Insights from the Shia Era:
- Embrace the Absurd: If the world is making fun of you, sometimes the best move is to join in. The "Actual Cannibal" video did more for his PR than any late-night interview ever could.
- Art is a Mirror: The controversy of "Elastic Heart" proved that people often project their own fears and biases onto art. If you see something "gross" in a piece of interpretive dance, it might say more about your perspective than the artist's intent.
- Vulnerability Scales: High-octane action movies made Shia famous, but quiet, raw performances in low-budget music videos made him an "artist." There is power in being small and "un-famous."
If you haven't watched these in a while, go back and look at his eyes in the Sia video. Don't focus on the "scandal." Look at the exhaustion. It tells a much bigger story than any tabloid headline ever did. He wasn't just dancing; he was trying to find a way out of the cage.
Whether he ever actually made it out is still up for debate. But the work he left behind in those four-minute clips is some of the most honest stuff to ever come out of the pop culture machine.
Check out the "Shia LaBeouf" Live video first if you want a laugh, but save "Fjögur Píanó" for when you’re ready to actually feel something heavy. It’s a trip.