Sabrina Carpenter is done being cute — or at least, she’s weaponizing it. On her latest single “Manchild“, she revs up the engine of a pop anthem designed not just for singing along, but for screaming out the passenger side of a car, middle finger extended. This isn’t just a breakup song; it’s a fast-moving rejection of emotional immaturity, wrapped in a glittering, gaslit bow.
The video for “Manchild”, which dropped hours after the track itself, plays out like a caffeine-fueled movie marathon. Carpenter gets booted from a moving car in the opening shot and spends the rest of the video bouncing through an escalating series of surreal vehicles and chaotic scenes: jet-skis on wheels, cars sprouting trees, gun standoffs, lakeside paintings, and more. It’s absurd, hyperactive, and completely in tune with the emotional whiplash of navigating early adulthood — especially when you’re stuck dealing with guys who never really grew up.
There’s a visual metaphor every 10 seconds, but it doesn’t feel overdone. Instead, it captures the feeling Sabrina Carpenter describes on Instagram — that “loving eye roll” at the circus of dating, particularly in your twenties, when everything feels like both a joke and a crisis. The production, helmed by pop alchemists Amy Allen and Jack Antonoff, mirrors that whiplash: sun-drenched guitars, a beat that drives like it’s in a hurry to get the hell out of town, and a chorus that feels custom-built for late-night drives and sarcastic singalongs.
Carpenter isn’t new to making pop feel cinematic — Emails I Can’t Send was practically storyboarded. But “Manchild” kicks it into a new gear, fusing the sugar-rush euphoria of Short n’ Sweet with a razor-edge awareness of emotional stakes. She’s no longer just the narrator of messy love stories; she’s the director, the stunt driver, and the one rewriting the ending.
What makes “Manchild“ stick is that it doesn’t try to hide the hurt under the hooks. It lets the bitterness breathe, but never forgets to make you laugh. The song feels like growing up — not gracefully, not quietly, but out loud and at 100 miles an hour. And if this is how Sabrina Carpenter’s summer starts, good luck to everyone else trying to top it.