by Pat
I wasn't excited about the Super Bowl this year. I already saw Chiefs vs. 49ers in 2020, and the world got COVID six weeks later. For this week, I looked back on a happier age. An age filled with sharks.
The Meme:
The backup dancer to Katy Perry's left during her Super Bowl halftime performance. The dancer is dressed in an enormous shark costume and is dancing out of sync with Perry and their Carcharodon counterpart on the right.
[WATCH IT HERE! The NFL won't allow Puke on Your Birthday to embed the whole video.]
Where You Might Have Seen It:
The Super Bowl XLIX halftime show was watched by 121.5 million people. There's a one-in-three chance you saw this happen live on February 1, 2015. I sure did.
In simpler times, Left Shark might have been seen but quickly forgotten, like the Elvis impersonator who sang no Elvis songs at Super Bowl XXIII. However, this was the Golden Era of Twitter, and no one could forget. Not even Snoop.
From there, it was a numbers game. The whole world had seen Left Shark screw up the choreography, and everybody wanted to get in on the joke. The next few days on the Internet were a feeding frenzy.
General interest in Left Shark fell off as time went on, but he still pops up every now and again. He's become something of a cult icon.
The Message:
Initially, it was "Wow! What a silly shark!"
But then something weird happened. People began to feel for Left Shark. Before the end of the night, he was a folk hero. Everyone has been caught unprepared at some point, so it was easy to sympathize with this poor, confused shark.
This guy had been asked to dance on live TV during the Super Bowl and he didn't know the moves. That's the most in-over-their-head anyone has ever been. And yet he continued. Left Shark became a symbol for perseverance in the face of not knowing what the fuck you're doing.
Naturally, some people decided to get vaguely horny about the shark. The Internet is as upsetting as it is predictable.
The Source:
I pulled double duty for this week, watching both the broadcast version of the Super Bowl XLIX halftime show, as well as the companion documentary Katy Perry: Making of a Super Bowl Halftime Show. Before I get to those, I have two points of housekeeping. "Housekeeping" meaning "I get to talk about whatever I want because it's my column."
First, I would be remiss not to mention that this was Super Bowl XLIX. In case you forgot, the New England Patriots defeated the Seattle Seahawks following not only a fourteen-point comeback, but also what's probably the greatest defensive play in the history of American football. I was watching the game with a horde of New England fans, and when Malcolm Butler came away with that ball, it was like a bomb went off. One of my friends immediately stripped down to his underwear and did some kind of Massachusetts war dance. What a rich and vibrant culture!
Not to detract from the Patriots' accomplishment, but I would like to point out what a massive fuck-up this was on the part of Seahawks head coach Pete Carroll.
You had Wilson throw from the one yard line? When Marshawn Lynch was right there? Marshawn Lynch wasn't just delightful in Bottoms; he was a four-time Pro Bowl running back, and led the NFL in rushing touchdowns that year. He had run for a touchdown earlier in that game. He was basically a sure thing, you dipshit.
Is Pete Carroll a good coach? Undoubtedly. Could I have done a better job? Hell no. I couldn't win a game of tic-tac-toe against Pete Carroll. Will any of that stop me from taking joy in Pete Carroll's colossal bout of bed-shitting? Nope. Pete Carroll is an accomplished coach, but he's also a gum-chewing, 9/11-truthing, sideline-stalking goblin who totally left his former college football program out to dry. Fuck Pete Carroll, and give Reggie Bush his Heisman trophy back.
Second, I will admit that I've always been a little bit cynical about Katy Perry. To go from Christian rock / gospel singer to releasing the male-gaziest song about bi-curiosity in history suggests a person who values success over any sense of artistic coherence. But the field of epimemeology is all about reflection. The more I thought about my attitude, the stupider it seemed.
For one, how the hell am I going to complain about Katy Perry changing her act to be successful? Good artists adapt. I don't ding Dr. Dre for abandoning his fake doctor routine with World Class Wreckin' Cru in favor of gangsta rap. So why should I single out Perry in particular?
And more importantly, I don't know her! Maybe she left her Pentecostal Christian upbringing and truly wanted to get freaky. I know plenty of girls (and guys) who grew up strict, got to college, and started kissing everyone, regardless of the designation on their drivers license. So with this in mind, I left my prudish complaints about artistic integrity at the door and went into this Super Bowl halftime show with clear eyes and a full heart.
Welcome to the Pepsi Presents Super Bowl XLIX Halftime Show!
Rewatching this a decade later was a trip. I had forgotten so many details. We start with "Roar" and the lion from Aladdin's Cave of Wonders.
Perry's wearing a fire dress and will change into three other outfits in the course of this twelve-and-a-half minute performance. I count at least four puppeteers moving MechaFasa up there. The sheer scale of this show is mind-boggling. I was immediately pulled out of my awe when Perry does a literal lion roar at the end.
I laughed, but I am not proud. From there we move on to "Dark Horse" and a big chessboard. The fact that Katy Perry can not only walk, but dance across an animated floor in heels is one of those subtle facts that I will never fully wrap my head around. I would get dizzy trying to do Dance Dance Revolution in sneakers. Katy Perry does shit like this.
According to Perry herself in the documentary, she almost slipped and fell during this number. Apparently the plan in that case was for her to go right into a split, then be picked up. Interesting. They definitely accounted for mistakes in the choreography.
Next we come to "I Kissed A Girl" with surprise guest Lenny Kravitz! Apparently Perry and Kravitz had never met before agreeing to do this show. I wouldn't have guessed, based on their explosive sexual chemistry. This climaxes (**highfive**) when Perry drops to her knees to headbang, while Kravitz conspicuously points the guitar neck right at her and flames ejaculate everywhere.
If I have to explain what this looks like, you're not old enough to read this column. Prince wasn't dead yet, but I'm sure he was looking down and smiling nonetheless.
The next number is "Teenage Dream" featuring Left Shark, but I'm saving that for last. "California Gurls" is pretty good. For our purposes, it adds an interesting detail. At one point, one shark and only one shark chases some of the bikini dancers across the stage.
Clearly each shark had a different assignment. Does this exonerate Left Shark? Only time will tell.
The penultimate number is a Missy Elliott mash-up by... Missy Elliott! Cool! Now the show is handed over entirely to Elliott, with Perry acting more or less as a hype woman. Not that Elliott needed any hype. After not releasing a new single since 2008, Elliott apparently decided to release all of her pent-up energy in this two-and-a-half minute performance.
It is always funny to me that they censor "Work It" by playing the sound of an elephant over the word "dick." More songs need to incorporate random gag noises over profanities. DMX songs were always good at that.
The show closes with "Firework" and Perry ascending approximately 40 feet above the stage on a platform just barely bigger than her feet. I can tell she's buckled in around her waist, but still. Holy shit.
Perry closes out the show with a fireworks display and a final "Thank you and God bless America!" After all, this is a FAMILY show. We wouldn't want to cheapen the pyrotechnic fellatio by forgetting to invoke the Lord. But seriously, this halftime show was a fucking marvel. Even if you're lukewarm on Katy Perry like me, the sheer scale and ambition of it is enough to impress. And if you like Katy Perry? This is probably the halftime show you measure all others by, and you aren't wrong to do so.
Jumping back to "Teenage Dream," we can start our investigation of Left Shark in earnest. I will note that of all the costumed characters onstage—including beach balls, trees and surfboards—the sharks are the only ones with arms. This will make any mistake on their part much more noticeable.
The sharks take center stage as the chorus begins. For the first few lines, the sharks and Perry are all on the same page.
But as the chorus ends, Left Shark starts doing his own thing. When they come back to finish the song, Left Shark is dancing to a totally different beat.
The really damning part is that both sharks appear to be doing some kind of Macarena dance, but Left Shark seems to be just one or two seconds behind. He's not a bad dancer, but in a show full of highly coordinated choreography he sticks out like a sore thumb.
What happened here? According to show choreographer RJ Durell: nothing. Durell explained that the sharks had been instructed to do a "Tweedledee/Tweedledum-type routine," where one shark was a perfectionist and one was happy-go-lucky. I'm pretty sure that's the wrong metaphor (the Tweedles are famously not different at all), but he is the authority.
The Left Shark himself, dancer Bryan Gaw, came forward a few years later to partially corroborate and partially contradict Durell. Gaw explained that he was doing "freestyle choreography" and playing his dance character as "an everyday person, someone imperfect."
So Left Shark was planned all along! We just didn't get it! Here's the thing though: I don't believe that. The explanations were a bit suspect to begin with, but what really convinced me was Katy Perry: The Making of a Super Bowl Halftime Show.
If you haven't seen this documentary, it's an absolutely fascinating look at the logistical nightmare that was the Super Bowl halftime show. More than 500 stagehands had less than eight minutes to put up the entire set and no control over the start time. The crew had to coordinate eighty light projectors. The dancers had only one month to learn and rehearse the whole act. There is only one chance to do it all right.
The most compelling character in the documentary, truly, is Katy Perry. A self-admitted control freak, and heavily involved in every aspect of planning and execution, Perry makes the preparation for the show feel like planning for D-Day, in terms of both scale and importance. When a team member points out that Perry would probably die if she falls from the rig during "Firework," her response is "C'est la vie." I no longer have any confusion about how Katy Perry became a superstar. This woman has a great voice and an iron will.
If there's one message the documentary hammers home, it's that the Super Bowl halftime show cannot be anything less than perfect. That's why I don't believe Durell and Gaw's explanations. At one point, Perry rejects some of the costumes for "Dark Horse" because the shoes aren't matching. This was not the kind of performance where Perry—who had more at stake than anyone else in this venture—would approve a totally improvised dance routine just five feet behind her.
OR WOULD SHE? In the entire documentary, Perry only addresses the sharks once, and it's cryptic as hell. She says: "The sharks are insane. They're going to get so much love." Is it possible that Left Shark's off-kilter routine was not only allowed, but purposefully done to draw the public's attention? Was Snoop Dogg—Perry's collaborator on "California Gurls"—specifically instructed to tweet about Left Shark? Was the greatest trick Katy Perry ever pulled convincing the world that Left Shark was a mistake at all? We're through the looking glass, people. I can hear Occam knocking on my door, ready to cut me with his razor for coming up with an explanation so convoluted.
Here's my final verdict on Left Shark. I think Bryan Gaw and the other guy in the shark costume learned and rehearsed the same moves. I imagine it's very difficult to see out of that shark costume and impossible to see anything in your peripherals. I think Gaw couldn't see his dance partners and either fell behind or lost his place in the routine by a few seconds. I think it was an extremely minor mistake and all of this would have blown over if there hadn't been 120 million people watching him.
The Super Bowl is typically the most watched event in America in any given year. The only events that had more viewers than Super Bowl XLIX were Super Bowl LVII and the Moon landing. Can you imagine making a mistake in front of that kind of audience?
If a dancer in the halftime show screwed up, it would be noticed. It might end up being the defining moment of their life and everyone else's career. If a dancer screwed up, everyone involved would probably take it to their grave and claim a mistake never happened.
Bryan Gaw says the scrutiny was intense at first, but now he includes Left Shark on his resume. RJ Durell stands by him. General Perry is diplomatic at the end of the documentary, saying "I don't get to redo it, but I'm happy I did it that way." No one is throwing anyone under the bus. Left Shark became an icon for screw-ups everywhere, but I think the real takeaway is that it's easier to bounce back from mistakes if you have a support system. Left Shark is merely the most memorable part of a vast entertainment ecosystem that sustains not just us, but themselves.
Next Week: Pat gets presidential by looking at the Obama Hope Poster.
The Meme:
The backup dancer to Katy Perry's left during her Super Bowl halftime performance. The dancer is dressed in an enormous shark costume and is dancing out of sync with Perry and their Carcharodon counterpart on the right.
[WATCH IT HERE! The NFL won't allow Puke on Your Birthday to embed the whole video.]
Where You Might Have Seen It:
The Super Bowl XLIX halftime show was watched by 121.5 million people. There's a one-in-three chance you saw this happen live on February 1, 2015. I sure did.
In simpler times, Left Shark might have been seen but quickly forgotten, like the Elvis impersonator who sang no Elvis songs at Super Bowl XXIII. However, this was the Golden Era of Twitter, and no one could forget. Not even Snoop.
From there, it was a numbers game. The whole world had seen Left Shark screw up the choreography, and everybody wanted to get in on the joke. The next few days on the Internet were a feeding frenzy.
General interest in Left Shark fell off as time went on, but he still pops up every now and again. He's become something of a cult icon.
The Message:
Initially, it was "Wow! What a silly shark!"
But then something weird happened. People began to feel for Left Shark. Before the end of the night, he was a folk hero. Everyone has been caught unprepared at some point, so it was easy to sympathize with this poor, confused shark.
This guy had been asked to dance on live TV during the Super Bowl and he didn't know the moves. That's the most in-over-their-head anyone has ever been. And yet he continued. Left Shark became a symbol for perseverance in the face of not knowing what the fuck you're doing.
Naturally, some people decided to get vaguely horny about the shark. The Internet is as upsetting as it is predictable.
The Source:
I pulled double duty for this week, watching both the broadcast version of the Super Bowl XLIX halftime show, as well as the companion documentary Katy Perry: Making of a Super Bowl Halftime Show. Before I get to those, I have two points of housekeeping. "Housekeeping" meaning "I get to talk about whatever I want because it's my column."
First, I would be remiss not to mention that this was Super Bowl XLIX. In case you forgot, the New England Patriots defeated the Seattle Seahawks following not only a fourteen-point comeback, but also what's probably the greatest defensive play in the history of American football. I was watching the game with a horde of New England fans, and when Malcolm Butler came away with that ball, it was like a bomb went off. One of my friends immediately stripped down to his underwear and did some kind of Massachusetts war dance. What a rich and vibrant culture!
Not to detract from the Patriots' accomplishment, but I would like to point out what a massive fuck-up this was on the part of Seahawks head coach Pete Carroll.
You had Wilson throw from the one yard line? When Marshawn Lynch was right there? Marshawn Lynch wasn't just delightful in Bottoms; he was a four-time Pro Bowl running back, and led the NFL in rushing touchdowns that year. He had run for a touchdown earlier in that game. He was basically a sure thing, you dipshit.
Is Pete Carroll a good coach? Undoubtedly. Could I have done a better job? Hell no. I couldn't win a game of tic-tac-toe against Pete Carroll. Will any of that stop me from taking joy in Pete Carroll's colossal bout of bed-shitting? Nope. Pete Carroll is an accomplished coach, but he's also a gum-chewing, 9/11-truthing, sideline-stalking goblin who totally left his former college football program out to dry. Fuck Pete Carroll, and give Reggie Bush his Heisman trophy back.
Second, I will admit that I've always been a little bit cynical about Katy Perry. To go from Christian rock / gospel singer to releasing the male-gaziest song about bi-curiosity in history suggests a person who values success over any sense of artistic coherence. But the field of epimemeology is all about reflection. The more I thought about my attitude, the stupider it seemed.
For one, how the hell am I going to complain about Katy Perry changing her act to be successful? Good artists adapt. I don't ding Dr. Dre for abandoning his fake doctor routine with World Class Wreckin' Cru in favor of gangsta rap. So why should I single out Perry in particular?
And more importantly, I don't know her! Maybe she left her Pentecostal Christian upbringing and truly wanted to get freaky. I know plenty of girls (and guys) who grew up strict, got to college, and started kissing everyone, regardless of the designation on their drivers license. So with this in mind, I left my prudish complaints about artistic integrity at the door and went into this Super Bowl halftime show with clear eyes and a full heart.
Welcome to the Pepsi Presents Super Bowl XLIX Halftime Show!
Rewatching this a decade later was a trip. I had forgotten so many details. We start with "Roar" and the lion from Aladdin's Cave of Wonders.
Perry's wearing a fire dress and will change into three other outfits in the course of this twelve-and-a-half minute performance. I count at least four puppeteers moving MechaFasa up there. The sheer scale of this show is mind-boggling. I was immediately pulled out of my awe when Perry does a literal lion roar at the end.
 |
| AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! |
I laughed, but I am not proud. From there we move on to "Dark Horse" and a big chessboard. The fact that Katy Perry can not only walk, but dance across an animated floor in heels is one of those subtle facts that I will never fully wrap my head around. I would get dizzy trying to do Dance Dance Revolution in sneakers. Katy Perry does shit like this.
According to Perry herself in the documentary, she almost slipped and fell during this number. Apparently the plan in that case was for her to go right into a split, then be picked up. Interesting. They definitely accounted for mistakes in the choreography.
Next we come to "I Kissed A Girl" with surprise guest Lenny Kravitz! Apparently Perry and Kravitz had never met before agreeing to do this show. I wouldn't have guessed, based on their explosive sexual chemistry. This climaxes (**highfive**) when Perry drops to her knees to headbang, while Kravitz conspicuously points the guitar neck right at her and flames ejaculate everywhere.
 |
| Ma'am! |
If I have to explain what this looks like, you're not old enough to read this column. Prince wasn't dead yet, but I'm sure he was looking down and smiling nonetheless.
The next number is "Teenage Dream" featuring Left Shark, but I'm saving that for last. "California Gurls" is pretty good. For our purposes, it adds an interesting detail. At one point, one shark and only one shark chases some of the bikini dancers across the stage.
 |
| Fuuuuucccckkkk! |
Clearly each shark had a different assignment. Does this exonerate Left Shark? Only time will tell.
The penultimate number is a Missy Elliott mash-up by... Missy Elliott! Cool! Now the show is handed over entirely to Elliott, with Perry acting more or less as a hype woman. Not that Elliott needed any hype. After not releasing a new single since 2008, Elliott apparently decided to release all of her pent-up energy in this two-and-a-half minute performance.
 |
| AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! |
It is always funny to me that they censor "Work It" by playing the sound of an elephant over the word "dick." More songs need to incorporate random gag noises over profanities. DMX songs were always good at that.
The show closes with "Firework" and Perry ascending approximately 40 feet above the stage on a platform just barely bigger than her feet. I can tell she's buckled in around her waist, but still. Holy shit.
Perry closes out the show with a fireworks display and a final "Thank you and God bless America!" After all, this is a FAMILY show. We wouldn't want to cheapen the pyrotechnic fellatio by forgetting to invoke the Lord. But seriously, this halftime show was a fucking marvel. Even if you're lukewarm on Katy Perry like me, the sheer scale and ambition of it is enough to impress. And if you like Katy Perry? This is probably the halftime show you measure all others by, and you aren't wrong to do so.
Jumping back to "Teenage Dream," we can start our investigation of Left Shark in earnest. I will note that of all the costumed characters onstage—including beach balls, trees and surfboards—the sharks are the only ones with arms. This will make any mistake on their part much more noticeable.
The sharks take center stage as the chorus begins. For the first few lines, the sharks and Perry are all on the same page.
 |
| Heyyyyyyyyyy! |
But as the chorus ends, Left Shark starts doing his own thing. When they come back to finish the song, Left Shark is dancing to a totally different beat.
 |
| Fuuuuucccckkkk! |
 |
| FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKK! |
The really damning part is that both sharks appear to be doing some kind of Macarena dance, but Left Shark seems to be just one or two seconds behind. He's not a bad dancer, but in a show full of highly coordinated choreography he sticks out like a sore thumb.
What happened here? According to show choreographer RJ Durell: nothing. Durell explained that the sharks had been instructed to do a "Tweedledee/Tweedledum-type routine," where one shark was a perfectionist and one was happy-go-lucky. I'm pretty sure that's the wrong metaphor (the Tweedles are famously not different at all), but he is the authority.
The Left Shark himself, dancer Bryan Gaw, came forward a few years later to partially corroborate and partially contradict Durell. Gaw explained that he was doing "freestyle choreography" and playing his dance character as "an everyday person, someone imperfect."
So Left Shark was planned all along! We just didn't get it! Here's the thing though: I don't believe that. The explanations were a bit suspect to begin with, but what really convinced me was Katy Perry: The Making of a Super Bowl Halftime Show.
If you haven't seen this documentary, it's an absolutely fascinating look at the logistical nightmare that was the Super Bowl halftime show. More than 500 stagehands had less than eight minutes to put up the entire set and no control over the start time. The crew had to coordinate eighty light projectors. The dancers had only one month to learn and rehearse the whole act. There is only one chance to do it all right.
The most compelling character in the documentary, truly, is Katy Perry. A self-admitted control freak, and heavily involved in every aspect of planning and execution, Perry makes the preparation for the show feel like planning for D-Day, in terms of both scale and importance. When a team member points out that Perry would probably die if she falls from the rig during "Firework," her response is "C'est la vie." I no longer have any confusion about how Katy Perry became a superstar. This woman has a great voice and an iron will.
If there's one message the documentary hammers home, it's that the Super Bowl halftime show cannot be anything less than perfect. That's why I don't believe Durell and Gaw's explanations. At one point, Perry rejects some of the costumes for "Dark Horse" because the shoes aren't matching. This was not the kind of performance where Perry—who had more at stake than anyone else in this venture—would approve a totally improvised dance routine just five feet behind her.
OR WOULD SHE? In the entire documentary, Perry only addresses the sharks once, and it's cryptic as hell. She says: "The sharks are insane. They're going to get so much love." Is it possible that Left Shark's off-kilter routine was not only allowed, but purposefully done to draw the public's attention? Was Snoop Dogg—Perry's collaborator on "California Gurls"—specifically instructed to tweet about Left Shark? Was the greatest trick Katy Perry ever pulled convincing the world that Left Shark was a mistake at all? We're through the looking glass, people. I can hear Occam knocking on my door, ready to cut me with his razor for coming up with an explanation so convoluted.
Here's my final verdict on Left Shark. I think Bryan Gaw and the other guy in the shark costume learned and rehearsed the same moves. I imagine it's very difficult to see out of that shark costume and impossible to see anything in your peripherals. I think Gaw couldn't see his dance partners and either fell behind or lost his place in the routine by a few seconds. I think it was an extremely minor mistake and all of this would have blown over if there hadn't been 120 million people watching him.
The Super Bowl is typically the most watched event in America in any given year. The only events that had more viewers than Super Bowl XLIX were Super Bowl LVII and the Moon landing. Can you imagine making a mistake in front of that kind of audience?
If a dancer in the halftime show screwed up, it would be noticed. It might end up being the defining moment of their life and everyone else's career. If a dancer screwed up, everyone involved would probably take it to their grave and claim a mistake never happened.
Bryan Gaw says the scrutiny was intense at first, but now he includes Left Shark on his resume. RJ Durell stands by him. General Perry is diplomatic at the end of the documentary, saying "I don't get to redo it, but I'm happy I did it that way." No one is throwing anyone under the bus. Left Shark became an icon for screw-ups everywhere, but I think the real takeaway is that it's easier to bounce back from mistakes if you have a support system. Left Shark is merely the most memorable part of a vast entertainment ecosystem that sustains not just us, but themselves.
Next Week: Pat gets presidential by looking at the Obama Hope Poster.
1 comment:
Excellent. Excellent. I want to see the rest of Bryan Gaw's resume.
Also, more like Katy Perry: The Making of a Super Bowl Cover Up
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