So what was that all about?
The nation’s biggest TV audience is amassed and we have this: a football game weighted to one side, and then to another; an array of commercials that failed to amuse or make much of an impression (except for the waste of money); a halftime show that was so set to dazzle no one dare consider raising the question of lip synching.
And then the lights went out.
Disasters have beset the SuperDome before, but to have lights out on the biggest event is too perfect a poetic justice. Yes they could have played football under the backup lights, but without the million candle power lights and JumboTron would it have even counted?
The sudden absence of sportscasters was indeed a gift. The director kept shifting to different angles of the blackened stadium, and no words were heard. It’s like when the power goes off in your house and you realize how quiet it can be when the refrigerator and other appliances aren’t going. On such a noisy day, it was welcome.
To have an element of unexpected interruption introduced to a day when everything off the field had been rehearsed and scripted to within an inch of its life, I loved that.
Something else the blackout showed was how far we had moved from 9/11. Never did anyone suspect it was plotted, that terrorists were behind it, though this was the plotline of doomsday movies from “Black Sunday” to Showtime’s pre-“Homeland” terrorist saga, “Sleeper Cell.”
Twitter pundits more often thought of other disasters, or suggested it was Chinese hackers rather than al-Quieda. And those who suggested Beyonce may have sucked up all the electricity may have been right, initial reports from power companies found.
Everyone was very excited about her show, and she was probably well suited to the event, but really how long will her pleasant dance music last? Isn’t she MC Hammer with better legs? And the appearance of the other two women in Destiny’s Child, from whence Beyonce rose, only pointed to the obscurity to which they will return.
Beyonce’s appearance was sponsored by Pepsi, whose best anti-Coke ad ran online at a considerably less cost. The rest of the ads were off-putting when they weren’t downright offensive, or pointless (old people will go out and party, ending up at Taco Bell, if given a chance?). Bud’s Black Crown is nothing more than a joke now, a hipster-baiting product nobody would dare buy because of the embarrassing ad. Beck’s black-label beer will likely fail, just because of the association.
There are so many ads that are just expected and really not that great. The Clydesdales, for crying out loud. The loutish E-Trade baby, a douche at 11 months. The Seth Rogan ad for Sam Sung: Funny people sitting around for a minute, but did anybody really spend a lot of time on that? Likewise, Amy Poehler’s Best Buy riffs, good as they were, were likely off the top of her head.
Who’d guess that the biggest ads would be spoken word pieces from Paul Harvey and Oprah Winfrey?
The movie ads seemed so absurd it looked like they were parodies. As a group they spoke with one voice: Avoid this. The Rock was in three different ads all night. Bad music was everywhere: Quiet Riot, Meat Loaf, Peter Frampton. Seemed like everybody involved, not just the football players, were suffering concussions.
And yet, I repeat, this is our most watched annual event in the U.S.A. Lights out.