Fun Couples, Raunch ‘n’ Roll

Oh, so now they get it right.

It figures that, after several years’ worth of increasingly dull MTV Video Music Awards ceremonies in Los Angeles--shows that lived up to their hype primarily in the vulgarity department--the move back to New York’s Radio City Music Hall would produce a telecast Thursday night that was cheeky, cocky, catty and heavyweight-studded enough that you might have actually wished to have been there.

Or, as one of the Beastie Boys said, heavily disguised and unexpectedly charging the podium at a moment when R.E.M. was supposed to be accepting an award, “I just want to tell everyone that this is a farce . . . .”

Exactly. And, this time, an almost thoroughly absorbing one.

Not that it was the slightest bit less tacky than the less watchable telecasts of recent years. Setting the tone and grossly funny almost in spite of her arbitrarily timed gag readings was Roseanne--finally, a host as legitimately irreverent as they wanna be.

But then, who wouldn’t be a gas compared to party-pooping MTV Awards hosts of the past like retired perennial Arsenio Hall or especially last year’s Christian Slater, who gave new meaning to the phrase “money for nothing”?

Squawked Roseanne, talking up the merits of Manhattan in her opening monologue: “It’s safe to walk the streets--especially tonight, because a lot of the really dangerous criminals are backstage.”

Things kicked off with this year’s designated Pee-wee Moment (and least well-kept secret in show business): a brief, royalty-like appearance by Mr. and Mrs. Michael Jackson.

“Just think, nobody thought this would last,” said Jackson. The former Lisa Marie Presley alternately squirmed like a trapped animal and smiled nervously before Michael engaged her in the most torrid clinch to burn up the television screen since, well, his incendiary video smooch with Iman.

After all the buildup, the Jacksons’ awkward kickoff wasn’t much to write Neverland about. But it was at least a setup for the show’s best punch line, nearly 3 1/2 hours later, when final presenter Madonna was escorted out on stage by sometimes-sparring-partner David Letterman and announced, “And just think, nobody thought this would last.”

There was more gutter-sniping to go around here than in a good episode of “Melrose Place.” In a battle of the singularly named Titans, Roseanne used her monologue to make a nasty crack about famously Republican VJ Kennedy providing special sexual services for Rush Limbaugh; Kennedy generously returned the favor later on, and Roseanne served the vulgar volley back once more.

Second-lowest shot: Comic Denis Leary asking his co-presenter, Naomi Campbell, “So Naomi, are U2 up for an award this year?”--referring to her ex-fiancee’s (bassist Adam Clayton) band. Her blank expression hardly shifted, but the super-model was clearly super-peeved.

It’s long been commonly held that the performances are infinitely more significant than the trophies at MTV’s annual blowout. Said truism still applies, but ’94 may be the year in which it can finally be said that the cutting ad-libs have become more talked about than the performances.

This, despite the fact that the web has never before assembled such a pantheon of rock bigwigs to perform and that, although none of the resulting showcases was stunning, almost all the live appearances were strong and flavorful.

Best was a literally back-to-back presentation of Top 10 punk revivalists Green Day and the Beastie Boys. A short, furiously tight number by the Green party--replete with head-twitching, eye-bulging, gasket-like strumming and Billy Zoom stances--ended with the revolving stage set turning to reveal the Beasties. The latter hip-hopsters were in their rock ‘n’ roll band incarnation, and in suits, skinny ties and sunglasses, with Adam Horovitz goonily howling “Sabotage” like Jerry Lewis fronting the Reservoir Dogs.

The Rolling Stones and Bruce Springsteen ranked highest on MTV’s coup list, but didn’t provide especially chat-worthy moments. Mick did a mighty job of pretending to still mean it, so perhaps it was having the Stones’ randy two-song set so soon after Aerosmith’s opening number that made it seem like deja vu all over again. And Bruce’s “Streets of Philadelphia” isn’t exactly a showcase for his live wares, nor its AIDS theme and somber tone exactly fitting for a telecast this determinedly classless.

The weakest performance spot was Boyz II Men’s reading of their No. 1 “I’ll Make Love to You,” which served to prove once more that unworthy couplets like “Throw your clothes on the floor / I’m gonna take my clothes off too, yeah” become triply comic belted out with gospel-style intensity and earnestness. But the little girls understand.

Continents away in every sense was a standout appearance by the ridiculous, bouffant-adorned Russian cover band the Leningrad Cowboys, with the 70-member Red Army Ensemble, doing an incongruous cast-of-thousands version of “Sweet Home Alabama” that was like a bad dream.

This had to be nearly as confusing to the audience as Beastie Boy Adam Yauch rushing the stage--disguised as an errant Swede--during Michael Stipe’s acceptance speech and uttering crazed ramblings.

Poor Stipe--whose “Everybody Hurts” video really did deserve the four professional-ballot awards it picked up, and the three general-ballot ones that Aerosmith’s “Cryin’ ” won too--didn’t know what hit him. Neither did we, but in its own absurd and tasteless white-trash-takes-over-Art-Deco way, this year’s show at least felt like rock ‘n’ roll.