Winona Ryder Bakes Trouble in A$AP Rocky and Tim Burton’s Punk Rock Fantasy

Mia Reynolds, 1/6/2026A$AP Rocky's "PUNK ROCKY" bursts onto the scene, blending punk and hip-hop in a visually stunning collaboration that nods to Tim Burton. With Winona Ryder's whimsical cameo and raw emotion, the video captures the essence of rebellion and belonging—inviting all to join the suburban madness.

There’s a moment—blink and it’s gone—when Ryder, channeling the most charming flavor of suburban oddball, appears on her porch, porcelain smile aglow, wielding baked goods. She’s not background noise, either; there’s purpose in her presence. For anyone who remembers Ryder’s gothic wit from yesteryear, her cameo reads almost like an inside joke for viewers clued into the weird and wonderful. Lydia Deetz, all grown up, perhaps with an apron and still a penchant for cosmic mischief.

Rocky doesn’t go it alone: co-directors Folker Verdoorn and Simon Becks link arms with him as “The Three Musketeers.” Together, they flip the script on what a hip-hop video can be. If suburban oddity is the template, the video colors outside those pastel lines—bright, burning with the sense that the mundane is teetering on the edge of something much wilder. It’s as if every nosy neighbor and fussy local authority is standing in for all the invisible rules that try to keep the rest of us “normal.” Which, come to think of it, is a tough sell these days.

There’s unmistakable homage at play—the Tim Burton shoutout arrives not just as a wink, but as a rallying cry. In 2025’s swirling visual landscape, to pull that aesthetic off takes a certain audacity. Rocky doesn’t just nod to Burton; he runs with it, flooding each frame with suburban pastel and surreal flourishes. Even his alter egos (GR1M, RUGAHAND, BABUSHKA BOI, et al.) parade by in a kind of pageantry equal parts sitcom and absurdist fable.

And what of the band? Not often will you see Danny Elfman hammering away at the drums with Thundercat spinning sticky bass lines around him, while A$AP Nast corrals the chaos. Honestly, it’s a who’s who of genre-shifters, poised as if daring mainstream music to catch up. Not the cleanest punk band you’ll find—but, perhaps, the most alive.

Midway through, the narrative unzips itself. After a routine run-in with the police (what’s a punk daydream without a shot of trouble?), the viewer gets served one of those haven’t-seen-that-before visuals—a bruised, swollen eye that bursts into song, its iris and pupil morphing into a crooning little mouth. Disturbing? Absolutely. But also strangely magnetic; a moment that pushes through gimmickry into raw, surreal emotion. The lyrics—“I wanna fall in love, don’t want no broken heart / Don't wanna grow apart (Take me back)”—hit differently when delivered through a battered eye. A little vulnerable. Haunting. That sensation, of wanting to burst the seams of polite society but craving connection at the same time, runs like a wire through the whole video.

It would be a mistake to chalk the video up as pure spectacle, though. While its hyper-stylized world threatens to overwhelm, there’s a method beneath the mischief. The neighbors don’t merely peer through curtains for comic relief—they stand in for every force that tries to trim the edges off creativity. The resulting friction turns out more authentic than any manufactured drama.

As things spiral—garage jams, police scuffles, jail breaks and an escape lit by the flick of a lighter—the temptation to root for Rocky and his troupe becomes undeniable. Every frame says, in one way or another: here is life lived out loud, with all its stubborn messiness and yearning for belonging. And perhaps that’s why so many are latching on; the piece speaks to those who have ever felt pressed to apologize for the ways they don’t quite fit.

By the time Rocky’s “SORRY 4 THE WAIT DON’T BE DUMB FINALLY HERE!” makes the rounds on social media, there’s nothing left to do but dive into the spectacle and see how far it stretches. “Don’t Be Dumb,” the album, promises even more of this genre-blurring, emotionally honest turbulence.

Look—2025 has been thick with collaborations and aesthetic experiments, but “PUNK ROCKY” actually captures the improbable joy of smashing styles together. Rap and punk, indie rock’s wink, avant-garde film, Hollywood nostalgia—somehow, it holds. Draw a line from Rocky’s band of outsiders to the cookie-carrying neighbor and it becomes clear: sometimes the wildest revolutions start on the quietest streets. Before you know it, everyone’s invited, the music’s a little too loud, and that line between ordinary and extraordinary? It fades, right around dawn.

One suspects there’s plenty more suburban madness to come. If this universe is just finding its feet, don’t be surprised if it winds up setting the tone for the year ahead.

A$AP Rocky’s “PUNK ROCKY” doesn’t so much roll onto the scene as it bursts through the garage door—punk guitars squealing, suburban lawns humming neon tightropes, and the faint scent of eccentricity in the air. Forget the standard-issue rap video formula; this is something else entirely, a fever-dream concocted somewhere between Burtonesque whimsy and garage-band rebellion. Not every day delivers a plate of cookies courtesy of Winona Ryder, after all.There’s a moment—blink and it’s gone—when Ryder, channeling the most charming flavor of suburban oddball, appears on her porch, porcelain smile aglow, wielding baked goods. She’s not background noise, either; there’s purpose in her presence. For anyone who remembers Ryder’s gothic wit from yesteryear, her cameo reads almost like an inside joke for viewers clued into the weird and wonderful. Lydia Deetz, all grown up, perhaps with an apron and still a penchant for cosmic mischief.Rocky doesn’t go it alone: co-directors Folker Verdoorn and Simon Becks link arms with him as “The Three Musketeers.” Together, they flip the script on what a hip-hop video can be. If suburban oddity is the template, the video colors outside those pastel lines—bright, burning with the sense that the mundane is teetering on the edge of something much wilder. It’s as if every nosy neighbor and fussy local authority is standing in for all the invisible rules that try to keep the rest of us “normal.” Which, come to think of it, is a tough sell these days.There’s unmistakable homage at play—the Tim Burton shoutout arrives not just as a wink, but as a rallying cry. In 2025’s swirling visual landscape, to pull that aesthetic off takes a certain audacity. Rocky doesn’t just nod to Burton; he runs with it, flooding each frame with suburban pastel and surreal flourishes. Even his alter egos (GR1M, RUGAHAND, BABUSHKA BOI, et al.) parade by in a kind of pageantry equal parts sitcom and absurdist fable.And what of the band? Not often will you see Danny Elfman hammering away at the drums with Thundercat spinning sticky bass lines around him, while A$AP Nast corrals the chaos. Honestly, it’s a who’s who of genre-shifters, poised as if daring mainstream music to catch up. Not the cleanest punk band you’ll find—but, perhaps, the most alive.Midway through, the narrative unzips itself. After a routine run-in with the police (what’s a punk daydream without a shot of trouble?), the viewer gets served one of those haven’t-seen-that-before visuals—a bruised, swollen eye that bursts into song, its iris and pupil morphing into a crooning little mouth. Disturbing? Absolutely. But also strangely magnetic; a moment that pushes through gimmickry into raw, surreal emotion. The lyrics—“I wanna fall in love, don’t want no broken heart / Don't wanna grow apart (Take me back)”—hit differently when delivered through a battered eye. A little vulnerable. Haunting. That sensation, of wanting to burst the seams of polite society but craving connection at the same time, runs like a wire through the whole video.It would be a mistake to chalk the video up as pure spectacle, though. While its hyper-stylized world threatens to overwhelm, there’s a method beneath the mischief. The neighbors don’t merely peer through curtains for comic relief—they stand in for every force that tries to trim the edges off creativity. The resulting friction turns out more authentic than any manufactured drama.As things spiral—garage jams, police scuffles, jail breaks and an escape lit by the flick of a lighter—the temptation to root for Rocky and his troupe becomes undeniable. Every frame says, in one way or another: here is life lived out loud, with all its stubborn messiness and yearning for belonging. And perhaps that’s why so many are latching on; the piece speaks to those who have ever felt pressed to apologize for the ways they don’t quite fit.By the time Rocky’s “SORRY 4 THE WAIT DON’T BE DUMB FINALLY HERE!” makes the rounds on social media, there’s nothing left to do but dive into the spectacle and see how far it stretches. “Don’t Be Dumb,” the album, promises even more of this genre-blurring, emotionally honest turbulence.Look—2025 has been thick with collaborations and aesthetic experiments, but “PUNK ROCKY” actually captures the improbable joy of smashing styles together. Rap and punk, indie rock’s wink, avant-garde film, Hollywood nostalgia—somehow, it holds. Draw a line from Rocky’s band of outsiders to the cookie-carrying neighbor and it becomes clear: sometimes the wildest revolutions start on the quietest streets. Before you know it, everyone’s invited, the music’s a little too loud, and that line between ordinary and extraordinary? It fades, right around dawn.One suspects there’s plenty more suburban madness to come. If this universe is just finding its feet, don’t be surprised if it winds up setting the tone for the year ahead.