I’ll admit I’m not a big Rhianna fan. Not that I dislike her as much as I really don’t know her. I’m aware of her success, and aware of the buzz around having a star of this magnitude headlining the vaunted Super Bowl Half-Time Show.
I watch the half-time show because it’s the half-time show. I think it’s probably the most watched piece of television on any Super Bowl Sunday, and that includes the game.
My impressions?
It was, of course, technically and visually spectacular.
I’m not the biggest fan of pelvic thrusts at the Super Bowl, nor am I big supporter of self-groping at live events, especially one being broadcast to millions. Rhianna, for her part, had no such objections, as sexual suggestiveness was a prominent theme.
No wonder the clerics in places like Iran have a field day pointing out the sexuality of a performance in prime time, and linking it to the moral degeneracy of the western world, and in particular, the United States.
I didn’t like it, but it was clearly awesome.
When was the last time you saw an artist performing on a platform that rose and fell to match the choreography of seemingly hundreds of white-clad smurfs, dancing with abandon. I wonder if Fanduel was taking live bets on her staying up there, giving a new spin to over/under waging. It was truly impressive, if not to my personal taste.
One thing, though.
Can Rhianna actually dance? Or was she limited by her obvious pregnancy or the safety considerations that are part of being suspended several stories above the playing field? I do feel that, when she did have the chance to cut it up on a stable platform with her smurfs, that she somewhat under-performed, but who am I to say that?
If it’s to be a song and dance party, tough, the main performer should be doing something more than genital-popping. Britney can do that, and she dances too.
The lyrics of some of Rhianna’s songs are somewhat suspect, but there I go again, Mr. Dump In Pants, trying to wreck the spirit of the party.
I watched it in its entirety, which is where the proof meets the pudding. If I was so against everything, I could have just made an extended trip to the beer fridge for the thirteen minutes of her performance. But I didn’t. Because I wanted to see.
It’s the Super Bowl Half-Time Show for heaven’s sake. Like I was going to miss it.
NEWSMAGRENFREW 