Were it possible, I would have invited Ralph Waldo Emerson to join me in watching the movie version of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. Because he would have recognized the phenomenon connecting the singer and her rabid, devoted fans. Emerson wrote in his 1841 essay “Self-Reliance” that, “To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men, — that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be the universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the outmost…”
How else and how better to explain not so much the folks who dressed in glitter and spangles sporting friendship bracelets, but the fervor with which they sang along, song after song, for nearly three hours? And not just sang, but screamed and wailed and waved their phones and danced with one another in a display of ecstasy and joy? I don’t know a full verse to any of Swift’s songs, but was nonetheless swept up into the catharsis she created. In singing about herself, Taylor Swift, as all great songwriters do, sings the stories of all her followers.
Theater Number 1 at the Alameda Theatre & Cineplex was nearly full of folks eager to see the movie. They crowded the lobby and concession lines beforehand, many resplendent in matching costumes, including kids and pals, moms and daughters, and sometimes just women dressed alike for, well, this night. To be honest, Taylor Swift singing was the secondary sound of the evening, being topped over and over by the screechers. But it was beautiful, as was hearing all these people sing along, in some cases nearly everyone all along—We are never, ever, ever, getting back together—and in other instances, small pockets of singers seemingly united by their love for a certain song. At one point the loudest voice belonged to what must have been a very young fan who essentially performed a duet with Taylor. And as apparently happened at each of the live shows, loving exchanges took place between Swifties who, under the glow of their phone lights, admired and swapped the iconic homemade bracelets made from alphabet beads.
As for the movie, having saved the small fortune required to see her perform live, I can say I was awed by many big and small elements of the concert:
- The incredible display of technology involving the electric stage, massive back video wall and platforms that rose from the stage upon which Swift and her crew danced, sang and exhorted howls from all of us.
- How each “era” was represented by a different microphone held by the singer that matched her outfit and theme.
- The almost unnoticed ingredient of Swift playing guitar, and piano, with rainbow painted fingernails, and the years of practice that no doubt lead to her level of expertise.
- The authenticity of the performance as seen in closeups showing her hair tousled as it would get, her skin glowing from sweat, and the many beautiful interactions with her fellow singers and dancers.
- The precious moment when Swift takes her hat off and gives it to the child of Kobe Bryant (cue hard crying).
I was not a Taylor Swift fan beforehand, but I am now. And that is so if for no other reason than this. At one point I happened to notice a young mom and young daughter a few rows ahead of where I sat. At one point, for one song, the mom leaped out of her chair, pulled her kid up and into her arms, and the two of them danced along with their crazed, happy people. They did not sit down until the end, having celebrated every song on their feet, enraptured, together, bonding.
Go see this movie even if you’re just a little curious, but go if you can on a weekend night, and sit as I did, amidst a crowd of fans like none I’ve ever witnessed ever.
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players, a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane.
