The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
b-side
Thursday, March 8, 2018 — 5B

In Mar. of 2016, I finally 
had the opportunity to be in 
“the room where it happens” 
— or as most people say, to see 
“Hamilton” on Broadway. I had 
third row tickets since a year 

prior and had scored them for 
only 100 dollars apiece, having 
been an avid fan since before 
the show met smash success. 
I guess you can say I “knew it 
before it was cool,” making me, 
inherently, one of the show’s 
most devoted followers known 
as ‘Hamilfans.’
The show was, in short, 

everything 
and 
nothing 
I expected at once. It is 
breathtaking, 
life-changing, 
magic and certainly makes a 
major statement about race and 
diversity. It calls upon society 
as a whole to think deeper 
about what these things mean 
in the modern age.
There’s a certain buzz in 

ELI RALLO
Daily Arts Writer

The 
director, 
author, 
screenwriter 
and 
star 
of 
“Twilight” were all women. 
It was created and marketed 
specifically for women, and it 
was overwhelmingly consumed 
by women. “Twilight” is a 
women’s story, through and 
through, and we can’t talk about 
“Twilight” 
without 
talking 
about that first.
Let’s be clear: The fact that it’s 
a women’s story doesn’t make it 
a feminist story, but I think the 
process of either blacklisting 
media or giving it the feminist 
stamp of approval undercuts 
the 
fact 
that 
feminism 
is 
complicated and messy and it’s 
not an all-or-nothing, yes-or-
no statement of fact. Feminism 
is a movement, not a label, 
and we should treat it as such, 
otherwise everyone would be 
too scared of relinquishing our 
Good Feminist Credentials (not 
a thing) to admit that we enjoy 
really 
undeniably 
amazing 
things like the scene where 
the vampires play baseball as 
Muse’s 
“Supermassive 
Black 
Hole” plays.
I don’t particularly think 
it matters if “Twilight” is 
“feminist” 
or 
“empowering” 
or any other words that don’t 
actually represent one side of a 
good/bad binary, even though 
people on the internet sure do 
try to convince you that they do. 
What does matter is the fact that 
I saw the first “Twilight” movie 
in the most crowded theater in 
my life to date, and apart from 
a couple of disgruntled dads 
and boyfriends, it was filled 
entirely by women and young 
girls. The energy in the room 
was palpable — girls screaming 
at the first sight of R-Patz 
(God, that hair), and reciting 
their favorite lines from the 
book (“I was unconditionally, 

irrevocably in love with him”). 
Maybe it wasn’t necessarily 
“empowering” (whatever that 
means), but it was powerful, 
and I don’t mean emotionally 
powerful, I mean it represented 
a tangible cultural power. For 
a few years, one of the biggest 
blockbuster 
franchises 
that 
completely saturated the media 
and its surrounding discourse 
was a story about a teenage girl’s 
supernatural romance. That’s 
some honest-to-God real power: 
Young women, harnessing their 
collective cultural capital to 
dominate the zeitgeist in a way 
that I don’t think has been 
replicated in the years since.
Over the years, there’s been a 
lot of thoughtful criticism of the 
way “Twilight” makes abuse 
seem romantic, in the way it 
reinforces 
both 
backwards 
gender roles and the damaging 
effect a culture filled with this 
kind of media can have on young 
girls. But accompanying those 
careful, necessary responses 
was 
an 
undeniable 
vitriol 
towards “Twilight,” its author 
and its fanbase.
Any earnest criticism was 
immediately drowned out by 
the seemingly endless sea of 
trolls on the Internet flooding 
message boards and comment 
sections 
with 
long-winded 
screeds nitpicking stupid plot 
details, trashing the characters 
and sending Stephenie Meyer 
death threats. For a while, 
“Twilight” 
was 
treated 
like 
the 
end 
of 
literature, 
feminism, feminist literature 
and America’s conscience (or 
whatever other theories the 
people 
who 
are 
absolutely 
no fun at parties talk about). 
I’m not saying critiques of 
“Twilight” are sexist — those 
made in good faith are usually 
the opposite — and there’s 
obviously a distinction between 
the faceless horde of the internet 
and the thoughtful critics who 
honestly had something to say. 

But ultimately it didn’t matter 
the intentions, because the 
result was a massive dogpile 
effect, and the people who got 
hurt or targeted ended up being 
the young girls of “Twilight”’s 
audience, made to feel stupid 
and ashamed for indulging in a 
fun, romantic fantasy.
This is nothing new. There’s 
a long and storied tradition of 
talking down to teenage girls, 
assuming 
they’re 
mindless 
sycophants who can’t think 
for themselves and don’t know 
what’s good for them, all the 
while dismissing their interests 
as dumb and frivolous and 
not 
worth 
Important 
Male 
Validation. It’s a stupid and 
frankly insulting perspective to 
have towards art in general, but 
it’s especially egregious for a 
work like “Twilight.” Why does 
something made so specifically 
for female attention need to be 
validated as worthy of men’s 
attention too? “Twilight” isn’t 
for everybody, but that’s not a 
mistake — it’s by design. The 
mean-spirited 
backlash 
to 
“Twilight” was, I think, mostly 
informed by the fact that to 
experience 
“Twilight,” 
you 
have to engage with a women’s 
space, with a work that was 
created for the express purpose 
of 
indulging 
teenage 
girls’ 
fantasies and making them 
happy.
And you know what? It 
worked. There was joy in that 
movie theater in 2008, and I 
think that matters. The fact 
that “Twilight” tapped into 
the essence of the teenage 
experience in a way that felt 
true, and in a way that brought 
happiness to so many people 
matters, because even if the story 
is sparkly and silly, the resulting 
joy isn’t something to be taken 
lightly. “Twilight” is important 
because teenage girls loved it 
deeply, in the way only teenage 
girls can: unconditionally and 
irrevocably.

Ten years later, ‘Twilight’ 
is still really important

ASIF BECHER
Daily Books Editor

SUMMIT

FILM NOTEBOOK

MUSIC VIDEO REVIEW:
‘RIC FLAIR DRIP’

 Has anyone more genu-
inely enjoyed being in a 
music video more than Ric 
Flair in Offset and Metro 
Boomin’s new video for 
“Ric Flair Drip”? Released 
Mar. 1st, the video would 
be aggressively generic if it 
were not for the eponymous 
69-year-old lending a prom-
inent appearance, joining 
Offset, 21 Savage and Metro 
Boomin in their celebration 
of excess. The moment that 
the WWE legend hops out of 
the Rolls Royce with match-
ing electric blue loafers and 
pants, you can tell this will 

be no cursory cameo.
 His appearance is the 
focal point of the video, 
from his enthusiastic danc-
ing (or at least, as enthusi-

astic as could be expected 
from an AARP-eligible 
man who just got out of the 
hospital months ago) to 

the simply fantastic scene 
where he is presented with 
his choice of lavish cloth-
ing. It is no surprise that 
Ric Flair fits in well in this 
environment: A decent por-
tion of his public image is 
built around his rock ‘n’ roll 
lifestyle and the embrace of 
excess (both drugs and per-
sonality). This video is well 
worth watching just for his 
performance, and the song 
is also pretty good, for what 
it’s worth.

- Jonah Mendelson, 
Daily Arts Writer

APPLE MUSIC

“Ric Flair Drip”

Offset and Metro 
Boomin

Slaughter Gang

Broadway’s cult following

WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

the Richard Rogers theatre 
(and countless other theatres 
around 
the 
country, 
now 
that the show has begun its 
national tour) as the house 
lights dim. But the physical 
performance isn’t the most 

insane part of the experience. 
What’s crazier, for those brave 
enough to venture to the stage 
door, is the scene as the stars 
come out to meet and greet 
fans and audience members.
Picture news coverage on 
the morning of Black Friday — 
year after year, huge swarms 
of people high on caffeine 
and 
adrenaline 
charge 
a 
Super Walmart in suburban 
Pennsylvania to fight to the 
death over a $49.99 Xbox. Sub 
out the middle-aged mothers 
for theatre kids and the Xbox 
for a Lin-Manuel Miranda 
autograph, 
and 
you’ve 
got 
the Hamilton stage door. Of 
course, being the devoted fan 
I am, with stars in my eyes 
and dried tears on my cheeks 
(the last scene is an absolute 
heartbreak), I joined the other 
5,000 fans, both those who got 
to see the show on that Mar. 
evening and those coming out 
just hoping to catch a glimpse 
of their favorite star, at the 
stage door.
I 
wasn’t 
expecting 
the 
experience I had, and quite 
frankly, 
had 
never 
seen 
anything like it before. The 
entire block was barricaded, 
and the sidewalk begged for 
more space, pushing into the 
“Les Mis”’s theatre corner 
threateningly. 
Security 
guards stationed themselves 
around the gates and near the 
door — a no-mess bunch. The 
fans crowded, threw elbows, 
yelled and shrieked. It was 
like being brought back to the 
mosh pit at the emo concert I 
attended in ninth grade during 
my brief indie stage, except 
on the streets of New York 
City. The people around me 
grew restless and eventually 
rude, taking away from the 

camaraderie and experience 
of the after-show stage door, 
something 
so 
unique 
and 
special to the theatre. The 
crowd 
expected 
something 
from the cast and felt entitled 
to each member making an 
appearance, 
not 
thinking 
of the three-hour marathon 
they 
just 
sang, 
danced 
and 
emotionally 
invested 
themselves 
in 
(sometimes 
twice each day). Rather, just 
of the blurry picture and 
scribbled 
autograph 
that 
would eventually move from 
coffee table to a box under the 
bed.
In short, diehard “Hamilton” 
fans are a rare breed.
To me, there’s something 
really special about going to a 
stage door after a performance. 
There’s nothing like the “stage 
door” experience in any other 
form of art. After a concert, 
artists 
don’t 
usually 
stage 
door and you can’t meet the 
stars of your favorite movies 
and television shows upon 
completion of an episode or 
film. They stay on the other 
side of the screen, stage and 
radio. But in the theatre, 
especially in New York City, 
we are blessed with the gift 
of being able to meet the cast 
after they perform. Praising 
them, asking questions and 
enjoying a human moment 
from 
Broadway 
star 
to 
audience member — something 
Hamilton fans really seem to 
have redefined and taken for 
granted.
As a whole, the group was 
rambunxious and obnoxious, 
throwing 
themselves 
and 
their iPhones at the barricade 
and against other people — 
creating not a space to share in 
the revelry of live theatre, but 
rather a hostile scenario for 
everyone involved. Beckoning 
where 
certain 
actors 
and 
creative team members were, 
when perhaps, those people 
just wanted to head home and 
eat a bowl of cereal, make a pot 
of tea and go to sleep.
Of course, we are lucky 
that “Hamilton” has had the 
great effect and influence that 
it has, that it has touched so 
many people and had such 
a wonderful reaction to the 
public. Any piece of pop culture 
with such magnitude in the 
21st century will generate some 
form of a cult-like following or 
large grouping of crazy fans — 
but respecting the performers 
and creative team, in addition 
to the piece of theatre itself, 
should be all these fans’ first 
priority.
Unfortunately, this really 
doesn’t seem to be the case. 
Instead of remembering the 
base of their love and devotion 
to “Hamilton,” the fans I 
encountered at the stage door 
that 
night 
seemed 
rather 

selfish 
and 
disrespectful. 
I know I’m not the only 
one who thinks so, as Lin-
Manuel Miranda used to get 
strings of hate tweets and 
harsh Twitter attacks for not 
visiting the stage door after 
his performances. Eight shows 
a week is a feat, and Miranda, 
who also has a wife and child, 
sometimes just needed to head 
straight home to sleep. Instead 
of respecting that decision 
and realizing its implications, 
fans took to social media, 
criticizing and belittling him 
as a person.
Being a part of a theatre 
fandom so large and intense, it 
can be easy to forget why you 
began to follow the particular 
show. However, it’s important 
to remember that no matter 
how passionate you are about 

the musical, its performers and 
creators, they’re real people 
too with lives beyond the 
stage. Despite my adoration 
of the show and idolization 
of its writer and star Lin-
Manuel Miranda, I always 
want to respect and admire 
them first. The wild group of 
“Hamilton” fans I encountered 
that night and other groups 
of “Hamilfans” around the 
country need to remember why 
they love the show, and to act 
appropriately, 
remembering 
what the theatre is for and why 
we love it.

I wasn’t 

expecting the 

experience I had, 

and quite frankly, 

had never seen 

anything like it 

before

The wild 

group of 

“Hamilton” fans 

I encountered 

that night and 

other groups of 

“Hamilfans” 

around the 

country need to 

remember why 

they love the 

show, and to act 

appropriately, 

remembering 

what the theatre 

is for and why we 

love it

