Unless you live under a rock or on Mars or in Elon Musk’s Space X capsule, it’s statistically impossible that Taylor Swift’s Eras tour has not caught your attention. Swift is everywhere all at once and she’s boosting economies, friendship bracelet sales, and Travis Kelce’s Instagram followers.
It stands to reason her newly released concert film "Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour" directed by Sam Wrench, would also boost box offices and break records. And it has. It shattered the global record for a concert film, previously held by Michael Jackson’s "This Is It", (2009) taking in $128 million on its opening weekend.
A dear friend and I took our eleven-year-old daughters and a few of their friends to Redstone in Park City to see the film. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and I don’t know if the teenagers working behind the popcorn counter had ever seen so many people in the lobby. The line was out the door, made up of under tens, tweens, teens and their moms dressed as Swifties snapping photos, and exchanging bracelets.
But the real show happened inside the theatre. Yes, the film was entertaining, more about that in a minute, and long— running time was three hours and fifteen minutes.
Once the lights dimmed and the music started, it became clear that some of the moms who brought their children to the theatre were more excited than the kids themselves. Maybe it was the pre-game bracelet making parties, but the Swiftie moms were on fire. I think some afternoon Sauvignon Blanc may have been at play.
They blew up beach balls and threw them into the audience,(I personally got hit in the head with a couple,) and loudly encouraged everyone to get up and run to the front of the theatre. At one point a woman I’ve never met leaned over me and yelled “You’re at a concert, get up and dance.” I’ve never seen anything like it. It was worth the price of admission!
By the third or fourth song, the kids were on their feet, many of them made their way to the front of the house to be as close to the screen as possible. It was a Swiftie frenzy.
I imagine every theater where Swift’s concert film is screening must have a similar energy. The crowds are back, the theatre is full and watching the film is a collective beach ball experience.
Part of the beauty of this film is not only Swift in all her glory— she’s a pop legend, icon and genius— but the opportunity for people who couldn’t spend $1,200 on nosebleed tickets to get the seismic concert experience. Did you know her fans caused an earthquake in Seattle?
The film spans Swift’s ten studio albums, each one with its own set design, costume change and vibe. It was shot at Los Angeles’s So-Fi Stadium to a sold-out crowd. The first words she speaks to the 70,000 screaming, sobbing, singing fans are, “Oh, hi!” as if the audience caught her singing in the shower.
Swift’s not a great dancer, although the dancers around her are phenomenal, but her physical stamina is nothing short of astounding. She has a supermodel gait that she uses to cover every inch of the enormous stage and she never stops moving, cat-walking, running all the while singing a 44-song set list.
My favorite part of the film was when she sang her ten-minute break up ballad “All Too Well”, which she performs alone in a glittering robe and acoustic guitar. It was transformative.
I went in skeptical and doing my motherly duty by taking my daughter to the film, and I left a fan— maybe not in the beach ball, bracelet making territory, but I get it. I get her.
And that’s all Taylor Swift wants.
