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• Rihanna is risen.

• Ben Affleck speaks for the people.

• We all need Harrison Ford’s energy.

• 1,040 pages of perfection.

• The new Holy Trinity.

Who else is excited for the major TV event on Sunday, the one that will capture the attention of the entire globe and likely set new viewership records? I’m referring, of course, to the…Rihanna concert. 

LOL! I’m so silly. Bet you haven’t heard that joke before, a non-sports person referring to the Super Bowl as the halftime show performer’s concert. So clever. So novel. So Prince-melting-our-faces-off-with-his-rain-soaked-guitar-solo in 2007. 

Yet here we (and two-thirds of the internet) are, recycling the silly line that we’ve used so many times before—when Beyoncé, Katy Perry, Madonna, J. Lo, Shakira, and Lady Gaga performed, especially—about how excited we are for the 20-minute showcase for a pop icon, dismissing the biggest event in all of sports that’s the actual reason for it. In my defense, I could not tell you what teams are actually playing in Sunday night’s game, though I keep catching my New York Giants-loving family members muttering “damn Eagles…” under their breath, so I suspect Philadelphia is one of them. (Look at me, an investigative journalist.)

While that specific joke is admittedly tired, there is something amusing about how big the pop-culture accouterments to what was once supposed to be merely a good game of football have become. It’s like an outfit where the hat, jewelry, handbag, and—I don’t know—fur cape on top of it all obscure the fact that there’s actually clothes to be seen underneath. Coco Chanel said to take one thing off before you leave the house. The NFL said, screw that; put about 16 more things on and make them loud, garish, and noticeable.

From that perspective, thinking about Sunday night is almost overwhelming. The Super Bowl is no longer just one major event. It’s like a dozen of them, back to back. 

It’s no longer just the national anthem that’s the pre-show draw. (Country singer Chris Stapleton is singing it this year, and I look forward to finding out who, exactly, he is.) There are now multiple performances before the coin toss. Abbott Elementary Emmy-winner and Broadway veteran Sheryl Lee Ralph will give her rendition of “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” There is now a concert before the half of the game before the concert before the second-half of the game. 

That’s a lot of pressure to put on RiRi. 

What’s been remarkable in these past years is that, with the exception of acts like Justin Timberlake and Maroon 5 (ban men from performing at the Super Bowl!), the performers have managed to transcend almost impossible expectations and hype for their performances. 

In 2013, Beyoncé brought in Michelle Williams and Kelly Rowland from Destiny’s Child as well as an army of backup dancers for a stunning display of choreography that was perhaps a greater feat of athleticism than the football players’ on the field. 2015 Katy Perry rode in on a skyscraper-sized tiger, brought in Missy Elliott, and then belted her face off while flying through the air during “Firework.” For the 2017 show, Lady Gaga turned the arena into an unparalleled showcase for her breadth of musicianship and talent. And in 2020, Jennifer Lopez and Shakira just about set their stage on fire with their energy, complete with a surprise rendition of “Born in the USA” and political commentary about immigrant children being kept in cages.

Not only does Rihanna have those performances as precedent to live up to, but there’s also the added anticipation given the fact that, outside of those snooze-inducing Black Panther: Wakanda Forever songs, the star hasn’t released new music in six years, and hasn’t performed a medley on stage since the 2016 MTV Video Music Awards. (Watch it here.) 

That’s the kind of build up that makes it so that nothing and no one could possibly fulfill expectations, barring an appearance from the second coming of Jesus himself. Of course, this isn’t anyone. This is Rihanna.

Her booking makes sense. The halftime show has doubled as occasion to crown a performer music royalty, an icon in a different stratosphere than their peers. The fact that Rihanna’s was so ubiquitous and she’s been absent from the stage for so long certainly elevates her appearance Sunday to an event status on par with those other stars who slayed the gig before her. 

There are, of course, people who will rightfully point out that Rihanna took a noble and necessary political stance when she had previously been offered the halftime show gig and turned it down in solidarity with Colin Kaepernick. “I couldn’t be a sellout,” she said. Some claim hypocrisy now that, after Jay Z’s diversity summit with the NFL, she is taking the gig. That argument is as fair as the one that this could be the best halftime show we’ve seen yet.

It remains to be seen if she’s going to perform new music. In an interview last fall, she said, “Super Bowl is one thing. New music is another thing. Do you hear that fans? The second that I announced this, I said, ‘Oh, my God, they’re going to think my album is coming. I need to get to work.’” But a teaser trailer she released revolved almost entirely around fan excitement over the possibility of a new song. (Watch it here.)

While that would be a major moment, it’s almost too stressful to think about how a new song would fit into an already cramped setlist. It was revealed Thursday that Rihanna’s performance will be 13 minutes, a length of time that has the Navy (the term for the community of Rihanna fans) baffled. As one fan tweeted: “If Rihanna got 8 albums and 14 number 1 hits how in the hell she only got 13 minutes for this halftime show.” 

For the most part, I think about Sunday’s Super Bowl extravaganza with dread. Will I be able to resist consuming 7,000 calories worth of food—or the all-consuming guilt when I inevitably don’t? Will I be able to force myself to laugh at whatever nonsense the celebrities are getting paid millions of dollars to do in commercials? Will I be able to stay awake until the game is over? (There’s little suspense when it comes to that one: The answer is no.)

Yet the halftime show has managed to maintain its integrity as must-see viewing, a spectacle truly worthy of the word. Who wouldn’t be excited to see Rihanna perform again? To feel the opposite would be positively un-American. 

Just when I had let my crippling skepticism start to rear its ugly head over whether the show could possibly live up to expectations, I saw this tweet and became giddy with anticipation all over again:

When the first “NANANANANA COME ON” or “BUMBUMBEDMBUMBUMBEDUMBUM” kicks on, just know that I’m sitting on my couch, absolutely thriving.

The Ben Affleck Memes Never Get Old

As someone who never wants to be anywhere, at any time, I feel a camaraderie with Ben Affleck. Myself and the Oscar-winning movie star who is married to Jennifer Lopez and has children with perfect human Jennifer Garner: We are the same.

When Affleck was spotted at Sunday’s Grammy Awards looking absolutely miserable, it was screengrabbed and compared to past times where he looked like he’d rather stick needles in his eye than pretend to engage with your shit right now. I can relate. 

The thing is, if you watched the Grammys, not one person in that audience was enjoying themselves. It was utterly bizarre. The night kicked off with Bad Bunny performing the definition of a “get off your ass and dance!” set. Yet when the camera panned to the other musicians in the audience, they all were sitting down with blank stares, as if they were in some sort of hostage situation. (Give her credit where it’s due: Taylor Swift tried her mightiest to turn the night into the modicum of fun it should have been.)

Sometimes, you have to meet people where they are. For Affleck, that means understanding how going to the biggest night in music is as unappealing as being dragged to an elementary schooler’s band concert. We may run in different social circles, but, Ben, I get it. Stevie Wonder might as well have been playing “Hot Cross Buns” on the recorder.

Here’s the thing: I don’t like when celebrities pretend that they’re always happy. They’re busy-ass people. No one lets them sleep. Their time is constantly being commanded by an army of publicists named Lauren or Ashley. Who could keep track of all of them? They think they have one free night, and suddenly they have to wear a tuxedo and deal with a camera eight inches from their face, capturing their every reaction to Sam Smith wearing a hat with devil horns. Sounds exhausting!

Give me all the grumpy faces. Affleck’s Dunkin Donuts memes are the closest thing we have to a modern day “Mona Lisa;” they are perfect art. The screengrabs from the Grammys are a close second. 

Harrison Ford Speaks to Me

In a new interview, Harrison Ford is candid about the rumors that he’s a curmudgeon. From everything that I’ve read, and in all the (rare) talk show interviews I’ve seen him do, he seems like a normal, fun guy that just doesn’t have the patience for ridiculous shit. It just so happens that his industry thrives on ridiculous shit, which is probably how he earned his reputation.

In any case, he gave a clarifying quote to The Hollywood Reporter this week, and I want to hang it on my wall (alongside my framed photo of Ben Affleck’s grumpy face): “I don’t have a social anxiety disorder. I have an abhorrence of boring situations.” Sir! Yes! I am enlightened. I feel seen. Is this how Moses felt when God was like, “Here’s some commandments, I guess?”

Several readers have pointed out that this is the same energy as when Kim Cattrall said in an interview with The Guardian, “I don’t want to be in a situation for even an hour where I’m not enjoying myself.” We don’t talk often enough about a) how shady The Guardian was for making that quote the literal headline of its interview with Cattrall and b) how it is perfect life advice.

So much of self-care these days is about doing things and opening yourself up to possibilities. No thank you! I’m closing myself up. I’m staying home. I am walking away from your boring ass, and I am going to find a situation in which I am enjoying myself. It will likely involve potato chips, Bravo, and not having to pretend to care about whatever you’re talking about. 

Barbra Streisand Is About to Have Me Reading Again

There is a YouTube video of Diane Keaton, Goldie Hawn, and Bette Midler presenting an award at the Oscars, in which they argue over the proper way to pronounce Barbra Streisand’s last name. Because of the [redacted] times I have watched this video, I am so cripplingly insecure over what is actually the right way to pronounce it that I refuse to say her name out loud. That is a devastating position to be in as a gay person!

Thankfully, just as Lea Michele has 265 days to learn to read (perfect self-deprecating TikTok; no notes), I have just as long to learn how to pronounce Streisand. Because, trust that when the star’s just-announced memoir, My Name Is Barbra, comes out on Nov. 7, I will be interjecting every single conversation I have with my thoughts on the book. There are a reported 1,040 pages in the book. That means 1,040 opportunities for conversation starters.

Charlie’s Angels Reboot? 

I can’t explain why, but this exact combination of people means the world to me. Here’s a photo of Lindsay Lohan, Julia Stiles, and Quinta Brunson at the Christian Siriano New York Fashion Week show, and if every casting director isn’t hanging this on a vision board, then Hollywood truly is broken.

• Star Trek: Picard: The new season reunites Patrick Stewart with his old castmates; sometimes nostalgia really is nice. (Thurs. on Paramount+)

• Titanic 3D: A little-known movie is heading back to theaters, in 3D this time. (Now in theaters)

• Super Bowl Halftime Show: I heard Rihanna is performing. (Sun. on Fox)

• Your Place or Mine: We should all feel betrayed by how bad this rom-com is. (Now on Netflix)

• Sharper: Julianne Moore deserves better. (Now in theaters)

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