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Hello Sternal Journalists,
I went to see Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour today. I went with my friend Olivia of the Squonk Witch Substack. She proposed that we do a classic Ozymandias showdown.
I actually did not know what she was talking about, but have since looked it up: Ozymandias is a poem by Percy Blythe Shelley (I knew this part), but also a poem by his friend Horace Smith. Both Ozymandi-ees were written as part of a friendly competition between the two. This is matches the gist of what I figured she was talking about.
So after a few weeks of searching for a time in which we both could and wanted to spend three hours watching the concert film (which portrays one night of the Eras tour IN FULL at Los Angeles’ So-Fi Stadium), today was the day we finally descended upon the Grove and become fully immersed in the Taylor-verse.
***
It’s probably worth addressing the potential cynicism of an exercise like this. There is much internet chatter dedicated to dunking on Swifties in reference to their behavior at this film, and neither Olivia nor I are known for gong out of our ways to be particularly reverent of any of our subjects.
So, though it would be legitimate for one to fear that we’re just adding to the pile-on, it is worth saying that I think neither of us is setting out to do that. In fact, the most cynical moment I had was when I asked Olivia how much I owed her for the ticket, and upon perusing the ticket for the price, we both exclaimed, “$19.89???” And then I (solely) exclaimed, “That crafty *****!”
It is absolutely crafty to price your tickets with the name of one of your most beloved albums, but it was also the last crafty moment I perceived over the next three hours.
***
It’s also probably worth addressing that none of my thoughts will pertain to judgment of the quality of the movie. I would go so far as to say it’s not a movie. A concert movie in general is obviously different from the average moviegoing experience. Not narrative and not even a documentary so much as it is a virtual event.
I felt today like I attended a Taylor Swift concert. I’m honestly very happy I did this instead of attending a Taylor Swift concert. Never had a bad view, the seats were more comfortable than I assume they are at So-Fi, and I didn’t have to drive there or park!
What I’m saying is, in this case, the movie isn’t the thing. The movie is more like the connective tissue that creates the thing (a room full of people dancing and singing along to an asynchronous event that was also attended by a (much larger) room of people).
In short, the movie looked and sounded nice, but I think it didn’t do anything flashy other than what was happening in the room where it all went down.
***
As far as the experience though? It was great. It was a blast. It did the thing it set out to do so well that I think it would be an insult to try to drown its success in flowery language. Much like when I saw Avatar: Way of the Water, there was a point where I realized I had forgotten that I would ever leave that theater. The whole phenomenon of young Swifties running to the front of the theater and making Midsommar-esque dance circles very much occurred, and everyone was on board for it. I watched a 13-year-old girl cup her hands and gutturally scream, “I HATE JAKE GYLLENHAAL” during All Too Well (Taylor’s Version).
I let it all wash over me and am a better man for it. Nobody will like this including myself, but it ~reminded me why we go to the movies~.
***
It also made me think a lot about… mobility!
Backing up a bit, I’m 35. I, like many, have spent quite a few years being pestered by older male figures in my life with questions as to whether I “can do this?,” “this” being some sort of physical feat that they want to know if a person decades younger than them is way better at or not.
“Can you squat down to here?”
“Can I see your pushup form?”
“If you stand up from this chair, do you have to use your hands?”
All sorts of questions they use to measure how far they’ve fallen from peak physical performance. Well, I hate to say it, but the Eras Tour movie ushered in my first brush with being the old man side of this.
In the opening minutes of the concert, Taylor makes a meal out of looking everywhere in the stadium. It is a masterclass in making an entire stadium feel connected to you, and it is also a masterclass in making Julian feel old because, “Wait, how far can you crane your neck around when you’re looking over your shoulder? Can you rotate that far both ways? I can only do it going right.”
It didn’t help that I incurred some sort of “I probably slept on it wrong” out-of-nowhere neck injury yesterday morning. So watching her kick, contort, and twist through snappy choreo while in the foreground, eleven-year-olds did literal cart wheels across the AMC floor really sent me into a tizzy.
After all, I too am a performer. I want to be able to perform “The Ballad of Poop Train Girl” and all of its descendants with as much physicality as I need, but at times I can feel myself losing the pop and umph some of my performances once had.
With only a year and a half on Taylor, I of course convinced myself that with a bit of work, though I might never need to perform a 40-song choreographed concert, I could at least make sure that I can navigate the transformational leaps from “Narrator” to “Poop Train Girl” with poise and power (and also hopefully look over my left shoulder fully sometime before Thanksgiving).
That being said, even when I am lucky enough to grow so old that I get to pepper young people I know with fitness questions they don’t know the answer to like “how fast do you walk a mile?,” my eyes will still work! I’ll still be able to look at an audience. The way she connected quickly with everyone in the stadium (and the movie theater) is something that she did purely with her eyes. And I’ll likely still be able to do that once all my joints have failed me.
Three other things I would like to say before I go:
The dancers were great. They were great dancers, but they were also great characters. It got to the point where Olivia and I would clap when our favorite dancer (the long-haired guy) showed back up because he so clearly wanted to be the center of attention, and that is a difficult and bold thing to do when you are Taylor Swift’s backup dancer.
I do not apologize for referring to nevermore and folklore as her “mossy” albums. There was a ton of moss on stage when she was performing those. I hope this catches on and believe that it should. But I do apologize for referring to the mic she used during “folklore” as the “poopy mic”:
I would also like to apologize for referring to her guitarist Paul Sidoti as “guitar Guy Fieri”:
Okay, that’s all! I should point out that Olivia’s will probably be more organized and thoughtful than mine, but she has all week to write hers and I only spend the last two hours of a week to write mine so if hers is better, that’s why. Might amend with a Part 2 next week. I am still in so much pain and hope any of this made sense.
But for now!
Recommendations!
An Extremely Detailed Map of New York City Neighborhoods. Map. This is a very cool tool from the New York Times that has opened my mind about how we define neighborhoods.
Robbery Part 1-6. Songs. I have heard of Tee Grizzley for a while, but dove into this 6 part (extremely violent!) story. If you’re interested in a hyper-violent Trapped in the Closet (other differences include the fact that Tee Grizzley is not R. Kelly), this is not a bad way to spend twenty minutes. If that doesn’t sound up your alley, probably avoid!
Naked Attraction. Television Show. This UK show was just released (all 6 seasons) on Max (formerly HBOMax). It is a show where people pick a date based solely on physical attributes, revealing said attributes from the bottom and working their way up. It is trashy, but also so bold and fun to watch with friends.
Grayson Moorhead Securities. Sketch. I stumbled upon this mid 90s Jim Downey SNL sketch on YouTube and it has made me laugh every time I watch it. Beautiful slow burn.
That’s all this week!
Sending love!
Julian