Letterboxd deleted my review of super bowl sixty, and it turns out you can recover it if you export your data and go to the "orphaned" folder. Let me tell you, all the rage that boils within me over the reviews lacking in substance brought a vileness to my heart I am still recovering from. Anyways. Here it is.

as a stand in for the super bowl at large, because what better way to have an excuse to log a movie than to log the fucking super bowl? The game was among the most boring I have ever seen (I understand "defensive football" fans exist, and sometimes I can get a kick out of it, but I was losing my mind at these consecutive punting patriot drives). My nyt athletic newsletter was trying to convince me that for a casual watcher this was torture (my poor girlfriend, who sat with me during this) and to a seasoned fan there was a lot to unpack (i disagree, respectfully, drake maye is just not ready for the worlds stage). I have been picking through Football by Chuck Klosterman, which really breaks down the fascinating place it has in American culture despite how ruthless, violent, and complex it all is. He argues that football was made for television, he does so in words you should read in his book and not my poor regurgitation, but this game, as boring as it was, reminds you of that.

The advertisements are the other main draw, and they ranged from mildly entertaining to doom inspiring. The MAHA ad was provocative on purpose (and whatever you do, DONT go to Mike Tyson's wikipedia page), the ai ads were out of touch drivel, the celebrity cameos felt more plastic than usual. I think in 2026 we are culturally becoming really jaded and annoyed at advertisements, and the ad quality is probably comparable to previous years (save for the ai stuff, but that's my own bias more than anything) but in the hyper-consumerist ads-on-my-fridge world we live in it's kind of hard to sympathize.

The halftime show, as this movie is technically listed, was amazing. I have never heard any bad bunny, partially because reggaetón has never been my cup of tea (except gasolina, what a song!), partially because I always feel like a voyeur peering into Spanish music that I can only understand through the lens of translated genius lyrics pages. The point of reggaeton is the point of most dance music: to move, to be horny, to enjoy yourself. Listening to it staring at the I-71 expanse is not the ideal scenario. the Kendrick halftime show felt like a victory lap, but did not wholly inspire in the same way this did, especially bad bunny's ending monologue about the vast scope of the Americas alongside Puerto Rico and other Caribbean nations. Of course it is satisfying to watch a crowd own drake on the biggest stage of music, but Bad Bunny will stand the test of time because of his commitment to celebrating love over hate. I'm gonna download his album. It was really heartwarming.