Bad Bunny’s halftime show: a celebration of belonging and unity

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques. 

When Bad Bunny was announced as the Super Bowl LX halftime performer last September, the reaction was immediate and, in many corners, skeptical. Much of the discourse questioned whether a predominantly Spanish performance would resonate with a mainstream Super Bowl audience. Personally, I went into the evening excited anyway. Not because I expected the show to silence every critic, but because I trusted that Bad Bunny would do what he has always done best: show up fully as himself and let the work speak.

From the opening moments, my confidence felt justified. I had a feeling Bad Bunny would start with “Tití Me Preguntó,” one of his biggest party hits, and when he did, it didn’t feel predictable so much as precise. The song’s playful bravado set the tone instantly. This was not a performance designed around easing viewers in or providing context. It was a declaration. When “Yo Perreo Sola” followed, the stadium visibly locked in and really started dancing. Despite being an expected choice, it was the kind of song that shifted the crowd from watching to participating.

Last Thursday, Bad Bunny described his vision for the halftime show as light and fun, so that “people only have to worry about dancing.” This framing guided the entire performance. Songs like “Safaera” and “Party” leaned fully into that promise, but the energy never felt careless; it felt communal, the kind of celebration rooted in familiarity — where joy is shared rather than performed.

That sense of intention extended to the pacing of the performance. Rather than racing through his catalog, Bad Bunny let moments breathe. “BAILE INoLVIDABLE,” the trailer track many fans had been waiting for, landed exactly where it needed to. “NUEVAYoL” followed and felt like a natural continuation rather than a pivot. The transitions mattered. 

Even before those two songs were performed, one of the most surprising moments came when Lady Gaga, a guest performer along with Ricky Martin, began singing with a salsa-inspired version of “Die with a Smile.” Dressed in bright blue, she blended into the rhythm of the show, singing masterfully and dancing alongside Bad Bunny. Especially after the two artists’ interaction at the Grammys at the beginning of the month, the collaboration felt rooted in mutual respect. 

When “LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAii” played with Ricky Martin, the moment carried less surprise and more lineage. It acknowledged history and continuity, reminding viewers that Bad Bunny’s presence on this stage emerges as part of a longer story of Latin music reaching global audiences.

Visually, the halftime show was just as intentional. The set centered on La Casita, a clear callback to Bad Bunny’s Puerto Rico heritage, while celebrating his album “Debí Tirar Más Fotos.” Modeled after traditional, colorful homes, the structure grounded the performance in something intimate despite its massive scale. Inside and around the set were details that felt deeply specific: a bodega, a wedding and a child asleep in the middle of a lively dance function.

That sleeping child stayed with me. It was such a precise image, the kind you only notice if you’ve lived it. Anyone who has been to a family party or community celebration knows that moment well. The music keeps going, the adults dance and somehow a child finds themself asleep in the middle of it all. Seeing that image recreated on a Super Bowl stage felt quietly powerful. It reminded me that culture lives in ordinary moments just as much as in spectacle.

The final stretch carried the most emotional resonance. “CAFé CON RON” flowed into “DtMF,” and the field filled with flags from dozens of countries. Seeing the flag of Haiti, my parents’ homeland, hit me quietly but deeply. Messages like “Together we are America,” printed on a football and “The only thing stronger than hate is love” on a jumbotron appeared without feeling performative. In a moment where some seemed eager to search for controversy, the performance offered something else entirely: pride, joy and openness.

What made Bad Bunny’s halftime show resonate wasn’t any one song or visual. It was the accumulation of small, deliberate cultural details. The bodega. The wedding. The sleeping child. The flags. His Grammy passed from hand to hand, finally to half-Argentinian child actor Lincoln Fox. Together, they formed something richer than spectacle.

Bad Bunny didn’t dilute himself for the Super Bowl. He trusted that his world, fully and honestly presented, was enough. Watching as a fan, it didn’t feel like witnessing a moment from the outside. It felt like recognition. And after all the doubt that surrounded the announcement, that recognition is what made the performance feel not just successful, but meaningful — a fitting close for an artist fresh off making history with a Grammy Album of the Year win.

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