Super Bowl halftime performances can be and often are quite bad. In the early years of the show, you were lucky to get a marching band, a college drill team, a few incongruous movie stars, or some other wholesome business. Carol Channing played twice. The youth educational organization Up with People made four appearances between 1976 and 1986, the most of any single entity in the showâs history and enough to catch slander from both The Simpsons and Family Guy. It wasnât until the 25th ceremony in 1991 that a pop act â the New Kids on the Block, it should be noted â touched the stage. Not long after, Michael Jacksonâs 1993 appearance made the Super Bowl one of the most sought after venues for mainstream performers. The NFL slowly leaned into modernity after that, though not without incident.
The showâs always either overextending or thinking too narrowly. On one end, thereâs overly ambitious years like 1995, where Patti Labelle and Tony Bennett dueted during routines from Disneylandâs Indiana Jones production for whatever reason; 2001, where NSYNC, Nelly, Mary J Blige, and Britney Spears all crammed into Aerosmithâs âWalk This Wayâ; and 2004, whose infamous mechanical failure featuring Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson happened at the end of a mismatched medley of Diddy, Nelly, and Kid Rock songs. Thereâs also years like the back of the aughts, where hip-hop and R&B were pushed out of the picture to showcase all of the veteran rock acts that shouldâve gotten the gig in the â70s and â80s.
Lady Gaga and BeyoncĂ© proved the show could be a set piece for style, professionalism, and politics in recent years, and then Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake offered the rejoinder, that bros who leave their politics at the door will always have a seat at the NFLâs table. The league has since looked to change its course on matters of social justice, or at least its optics. A year ago, the NFL unveiled its Inspire Change initiative, a network of programs aimed at closing wealth disparities and improving relations between the police and their respective communities. Inspire Change came in hot, though, with co-partner Jay-Z creating a fuss by working with the NFL as Colin Kaepernick remained blackballed for protesting during the National Anthem. Some saw the gesture as the crossing of a picket line. Others withheld judgment until they saw a bit of what Jay-Zâs music industry acumen could do for the game.
At Super Bowl LIV last night, the precariousness of the NFLâs journey to wokeness took shape strangely. Inspire Changeâs official spot showed former San Francisco 49ers wide receiver Anquan Boldin searching for answers after the fatal shooting of his cousin. A Trump 2020 ad used the pardon of Alice Johnson to sell viewers on his (wobbly) record on criminal justice reform; a Bloomberg ad highlighted the murder of football-loving 20-year-old George Kemp Jr. in 2013 and promised Mike would fight the gun lobby. While political factions lunged for slices of the Super Bowlâs hefty viewership, Shakira and Jennifer Lopez tried â and at least for the duration of their 15-minute segment, proceeded â to unite a divided NFL audience.
In 54 years, the Super Bowl halftime show has never featured Latinx artists performing music in Spanish. (In â99, as Latin pop music impacted the American charts, Gloria Estefan did âOyeâ in English, and in 2000, Christina Aguilera and Enrique Iglesias were brought out to sing Disneyâs Epcot Millennium theme song âCelebrate the Future Hand in Hand,â because why not? Bruno Mars played pop and rock songs in English both times he appeared.) History was made two minutes in, when Shakiraâs set of hits broke out a bit of the old ÂżDĂłnde EstĂĄn los Ladrones? closer âOjos AsĂ,â a song where the native Colombian also highlights her Lebanese roots. In six minutes, Shakira proved her skill as a singer, dancer, guitar player, and drummer (on her birthday, no less), while striking a careful balance between her dueling rockera and pop star personas through the years and pointing to the future by bringing Bad Bunny out for âI Like It.â (J. Balvin dropped by later on. We deserved the two at once.)
Jennifer Lopez dug into her trove of hip-hop/R&B jams and delivered the kind of timeless choreography that keeps her booked for televised performances whether the new singles are popping or not. She repped New York City hip-hop revisiting âJenny from the Blockâ and the Murda Inc. remix for âAinât It Funny,â then turned the stage into a nightclub for âWaiting for Tonight.â She pushed further with dance than Shakira did, at the cost of a good grip of singing. Her intricate routines nodded to the Super Bowlâs marching band past and suggested that someoneâs paying attention to the fearlessly vertical routines in Cheer and large scale productions like Homecoming. The two balanced each other out; what Shakira gave you in versatile musicality, J-Lo gave you in acrobatics, fleet footwork, and hip-hop bluster.
J-Loâs daughter, Emme Muñiz, delivered the nightâs most direct political punch. She sang a piece of âLetâs Get Loudâ inside a round metal structure resembling a cage and later belted out the chorus to Bruce Springsteenâs âBorn in the USAâ as her mom waved a double-sided cape emblazoned with Puerto Rican and United States flags. The message â that Puerto Ricoâs struggles are our struggles, and that what happens to the people locked away at the border will define us for generations to come â was loud. A stage full of bright, gifted women, men, and children of color was a more emboldening sight than anything PR teams trying to buy their attention could muster. It was a weird night, but it was a good halftime show.