As a concert film, “excuse me, i love you” is only as good as whatever song Grande happens to be singing at the time.
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No one who was actively looking forward to this thing is going to feel like watching it wasn’t time well spent.īut even they - perhaps especially they - will sense how much Grande is withholding from them, and how uninterested this movie about her was in achieving its full potential.
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This movie gives you all of that, plus a snippet of the pop star watching “Midsommar” on the side, as a treat. Grande has a great voice, a talented crew of dancers, a giant light-up backdrop that looks like the Eye of Sauron, a spin cycle jam about bouncing side to side on some dick, and enough hits to serve up 90 minutes of all-killer, no-filler pop smoothness. “excuse me, i love you” is first and foremost a concert film that captures a few highlights from Grande’s “Sweetener” tour, or at least from the show’s London performance (an Albany-set prologue leaves the impression that we’ll be globe-hopping along with Grande, which glosses each of the singer’s many jarring shoutouts to the British crowd with some inadvertently amusing “Groundhog Day” vibes). And while a general audience might not feel like the unexpectedly sedate concert experience does all that much to enhance Grande’s impressive catalogue of vowel-forward pop bangers, the frequent scream-along shots of teens in attendance make it clear that real fans aren’t going to look this holiday season gift horse in the mouth. Quentin Tarantino's Favorite Movies: 49 Films the Director Wants You to See.
Oscars 2023: Best Original Screenplay Predictions.'Disco Boy' Review: French Foreign Legion Drama Bluntly Portrays the Horrors of War.'Inside' Review: Willem Dafoe Is Trapped in World's Most Pretentious Penthouse.That’s what passes for a personal revelation in a documentary that affects the tone of a diary (Grande’s scattered annotations scribble across the screen every once in a long while), but comes off more like a bit of empty fan service that’s desperately trying to disguise itself as something more sincere. By that measure, Grande’s own Netflix showcase, “excuse me, I love you,” is nothing more than a harmless dose of pop doc porn.ĭirector Paul Dugdale’s tribute is so explicitly a fans-only affair identifies Grande’s mom with a subtitle that reads “need we say more.” It opens with the sound of screaming fans, ends with the sound of screaming fans, and peaks with the pop star relating a story about how all of her dogs started having explosive diarrhea while she was on a FaceTime call with Kristin Chenoweth. It was also quite good, and shaped into the flattering but fair-minded portrait of a young woman at war with her own self-worth on the world stage. The Netflix production provided a template for how mega-singers could weaponize major streaming platforms into carrying their water for them it showed them how the promise of intimacy was enough to eventize old tour footage into something that felt more candid than a commercial, and yet not so big that it would have to compete with the “break the internet” spectacle of a new Beyoncé special. Taylor Swift’s “Miss Americana” was the exception to pop star documentaries that proved the rule.
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