As the French would say, je ne suis pas sportif, but if I’ve got two things going for me, it’s a thirst for pop culture and a fear of missing out, so here are a few scant thoughts regarding FootBowl 50: Still a Thing!
Lady Gaga sang the National Anthem. She sounded great, and she looked like a cross between the alien exoskeleton from Independence Day:
And Liza Minelli in The Act:
It was a good look.
Speaking of Independence Day, there was a Super Bowl spot for the sequel, Independence Day: Resurgence:
I have no idea if this movie looks any good because all accepted standards of quality and taste have failed to anticipate this orgy of mid-90s nostalgia and CGI destruction. Even size queens think it looks like too much, but for a brief moment, my heart skipped a beat in anticipation.
While we’re tangentially on the topic of bottomless pits, those “You’re not yourself when you’re hungry” Snickers commercials are still a thing:
And while I want to like this because a remake of The Seven Year Itch starring Willem Dafoe in fright drag is a remake I’d endorse, I seven year cringe at Marilyn Monroe’s “digital performance.” Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
And speaking of questionable should‘s, here’s Nightmare Fuel Xtreme™, by Mountain
I guess that Puppymonkeybaby is the Nannerpuss of 2016; alas, it doesn’t roll off the tongue with similar ease. Also, it’s terrible.
And since we’re talking about combining three things together, about that Halftime Show:
Early on during Coldplay’s Halftime Show, they brought out a bunch of kids playing stringed instruments during “Viva La Vida”, and as someone who played viola in middle and high school orchestra, it bothered me that they weren’t even bowing in-time with the music. It was like watching a stageful of Left Sharks. Then Last Year’s Hottest Wedding Song and BEYONCE joined the Cool Mom DLC Song Pack from Rock Band 4, and it was…fine? Bruno was charming, Beyoncé was consummate, and Coldplay was like the awkward best friend from Teen Witch who will never be hip:
Also awkward, but in a totally different way, was the ad about “Super Bowl Babies”, aka the documented uptick in conception that happens in winning cities after the Super Bowl:
It’s weird enough to know the circumstances under which you’re conceived, but super weirder still to celebrate it so publicly, particularly when said conception was fueled by the erotic yin yang of seven-layer dip and your father’s broken dreams of going pro.
Lastly, I did think this Heinz wiener dog stampede commercial was cute enough:
But it needed more Ken Lee.