The woman sitting next to me knew every lyric. She sang-yelled them all for two hours and 48 minutes, pausing only to swig from her large plastic Eras cup (available for an extra charge at concessions). The girls in front of me were holding hands and crying within 10 minutes. I sipped my canned wine and regretted not bringing earplugs. After all, this was a concert.
Sort of.
*Record scratch*
You’re probably wondering how I got here.
At 5:50 p.m. on a cold, drizzly Sunday night, I found myself settling into a reclining seat alongside a packed movie theater of eager Swifties. Because, dear reader, in case you somehow haven’t heard, “Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” film opened on Friday, October 13 (the irony of the date is not lost here) nationwide, a second chance for those who weren’t able to score tickets to the sold-out stadiums or who want to relive the concert.
By the time I got up the nerve to glance at my sing-screaming seatmate, it was about a third of the way through the film; roughly 30 minutes or so. But I had to know — how old was she? A furtive look confirmed it. Tears in her eyes, Taylor Swift tee, and a tiara, she was about my mom’s age.
And that’s when I started taking notes, because the ubiquity of Taylor Swift’s appeal struck me afresh. I’m several years older than the pop icon, but was there to celebrate a friend born in 1989 (AKA Taylor Swift’s age). We were accompanied by my friend’s mom and older sister. While the trio wasn’t as effusive about the singalong, they did make friendship bracelets beforehand and wear Taylor-themed outfits: a champagne-colored shirt, a cardigan, a red scarf (I learned that most concert-goers dressed in a certain album era, theirs was Folklore/Evermore Eras). I was wearing leggings and a tie-dye sweatshirt (Sunday Scaries era).
After a dramatic billowing of fabrics and lights onstage, Taylor Swift enters the chat. There is cheering onscreen and off. My friend leans over and says, “she looks great.” And you know, she does. Tall, toned, and tan. Her makeup is flawless, her bangs perfectly straight across her brow. Rainbow nails. That red lip, classic thing that we like. Throughout the film, she pivots from bodysuits that look like dance recital-meets-cabaret to ethereal dresses. There are many pairs of knee-high, rhinestone-encrusted boots.
And then, Taylor tells us she’s been making music for 17 years. How is that possible? But it is. And she tells us (because in this theater, we were also the crowd now) she wants us to always think about this night, this concert when we listen to the music. But I start to think about how my own eras have intersected with Taylor’s eras.
While I’m not quite at the level of merch-wearing, concert attending, ugly crying Swiftie, I have been listening to her music since her 2006 self-titled debut. Many a college commute was fueled by an angsty singalong to “Teardrops on My Guitar.” I stifled a laugh as I remembered a house party in my 20s, where a friend drunkenly performed a Karaoke version of “We Are Never Getting Back Together,” yelling his ex-girlfriend’s name — Molly! — at the end of each line. I recalled decorating a little Brighton house for my ex’s surprise 30th birthday party to a soundtrack of “Reputation” with a Swiftie friend.
And when I think back to the last four albums from 2019 until now: “Lover,” “Folklore,” “Evermore,” and “Midnights,” I remember many nights laying on my apartment floor, wondering how a musician with a vastly different life could possibly be tapping into my current headspace. But that’s what accessible (or perhaps, relatable) music does. It helps you interpret a time or express a feeling when you don’t have the words yourself.
In addition to being a talented musician and writer, Taylor Swift is an incredible performer. For nearly three hours straight, she is onstage. I lost count of the costume and instrument changes; she commanded the audience the entire time. (She’s a mastermind, and now they’re hers.) While there may have been some lip-syncing filler sprinkled in, the set list was largely a performance of raw power. Playing the 10-minute version of “All Too Well” live? Power. Ending the night with “Karma”? Power.
“Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” was filmed at SoFi Stadium (cheers from me and my consolidated student loan interest) in LA just two short months ago. Production turnaround time notwithstanding, the entire film is a masterpiece of cinematography, design and lighting. This is Broadway-and-beyond-level set design. Disney-level special effects. And those backup dancers. I can’t imagine what the audition process was like, but this ensemble is flawless. Triple threats of acting, dancing and singing.
The concert footage is woven through with emotional crowd shots and a montage of concertgoers rolls during credits. So much glitter, so many tears. Admittedly, for that very reason, I was iffy about experiencing the live concert on film — if my friend hadn’t done this for her birthday, I don’t know if I would have chosen the experience.
Don’t get me wrong: it’s long. Bathroom-break long. (When I did dart out, there were multiple screens pulsing with the beat of the movie; it was showing every 30 minutes that night.)
But in the moment, it’s inexplicably moving the same way “Barbie” was moving; a cultural conversation in a theater full of breathing, feeling people who reacted to each moment.
The film itself felt almost 3-D, a sort of sorcery that transported you there for each swelling emotion, each costume and set change. After a certain point, it felt wrong not to clap when a song ended. By the time Taylor performed “Champagne Problems,” my seatmate’s energy had become infectious and I was humming along.
To quote Taylor, “you know the greatest films of all time were never made.”
But for Swifties, this one comes pretty close.
“Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour” is currently playing at The Little and other area movie theaters.
Leah Stacy is the editor of CITY magazine. She can be reached at leah@rochester-citynews.com.
This article appears in Oct 1-31, 2023.
