I’m the last person who should weigh in on Madonna’s Super Bowl performance because I hate her music and she bugs the crap out of me. Nothing she could have done could change my mind. So I am going to refrain from ripping it apart.
Having said that, there was a brief moment when I liked her.
That moment was spring of 1985, when she starred in a little movie called “Desperately Seeking Susan.”
I fucking love that movie.
I have seen it over and over again, and it’s hard to recognize that Madonna as this Madonna.
That Madonna (who still couldn’t sing) was more raw and messy and soulful, and her acting wasn’t half bad. She was real. Or at least seemed real. She had a look. She was original.
This Madonna (who still can’t sing) is so sucked and plucked and botoxed and bowflexed that she is the opposite of original. She is fake. Super fake.
I almost threw up on my computer reading people kiss her ass with their keyboards and keypads (…”Madonna killed it @ #Superbowl”….” Madonna having so much fun, you go girl”….”OMG, Material girl blew me away”….).
I get it. Look at her! She’s in her 50s! She’s performing at the Super Bowl! In a toga-slash-cheerleading outfit! Good for her!
I know I should feel a generational kinship with someone else of a certain age who refuses to let age define her. I guess maybe if she let age define her face a little more, sans all the surgery, she wouldn’t come off as so desperate.
Where’s Patti Smith when you need her? They don’t come more original than that.