Language: English “For most of Jennifer Lopez’s career, Jennifer Lopez has been seen less as an actress or a singer or a dancer than as a body,” began a 2019 Vox piece
about the multi-hyphenate artist. The piece came right on the heels of Lorene Scafaria’s Hustlers
(2019) — the movie that revitalised Lopez’s cache as an actress worth taking seriously — and indicted the media for historically undermining her achievements and sexualising her very existence. In a way, the piece summarises the central thesis of Amanda Micheli’s Halftime, a Netflix documentary that tracks the sheer craft of Lopez’s artistry through the events of a seminal year in her life. “Jennifer Lopez has been universally successful,” says one character midway through the documentary. “But she hasn’t been universally respected.” Over its 86-minute-long runtime, the documentary, fascinating even when it is by-the-books, examines Lopez’s fame at the intersection of her talent, image, and ambition. The film opens at Lopez’s birthday party in 2019. The multi-hyphenate global icon turns 50, an age widely deemed as an expiry date for female artistry. But Lopez, who enters the fourth decade of her career, doesn’t see it that way. “I really feel like my life is just beginning,” Lopez says to her family — in under a year, she ends up proving that to the world as well. The straightforward narrative of the documentary goes from event to event: first, it chooses to focus on Lopez finding herself in the middle of an aggressive award season campaign for Hustlers before tracking the six-month prep for her sensational Superbowl halftime performance in 2020. In that sense, Halftime, which premiered at Tribeca Film Festival this week, takes a celebratory approach, putting its subject on a pedestal and at a remove from the world at large.
As with Miss Americana, my favourite part about the documentary was Lopez witnessing her own transformation in the same way that Taylor Swift underwent her own: if Swift stopped caring about being liked by the whole world, then Lopez took charge of her own sexuality on her own terms. Think Ramona in Hustlers but also Lopez’s taking the ramp at 50 in that exact green dress that raised eyebrows decades back. Even Lopez and Swift’s political awakening bears resemblance, in the sense that both artists convinced themselves that being apolitical was part of the playbook of being a female pop star. On her part, Lopez doesn’t appear hesitant in directing the documentary toward uncomfortable areas instead of hiding under the cloak of political correctness. The highlights of Halftime are for me, embedded in Lopez realizing the responsibility of her voice and the immense value of her artistry — especially when the world chooses to look the other way. The camera catches Lopez’s dejected face right after her Golden Globes loss and her angry resolve when NFL Superbowl officials try to interfere in her act, demanding that she drop the bits where she takes a pro-immigrant stance. But the moment that takes the cake though is watching Lopez publicly admit that the Superbowl deciding to have two Latina headliners for the halftime performance — traditionally reserved for one performer — is the “worst decision in the world.” Still, this self-esteem is hard-earned, suggests Halftime. In the opening minutes of the documentary for instance, we’re treated to a sequence of Lopez learning pole-dancing for her role in Hustlers, boasting an opening pole-dancing number performed by Lopez that is as sensational as any action set piece in the Mission Impossible franchise. The camera briefly focuses on the terrifying height of the heels she wears before getting up on the pole and then on the bruises she accumulates on her legs and arms in the process. The point of the wordless scene isn’t just to posit that Lopez is a hardworking artist; rather, it frames it as an extension of Lopez’s desire to be taken seriously even when she succeeds.
In fact, Halftime dedicates a significant portion of its runtime on the unfettered acclaim that came Lopez’s way for Hustlers. The film made all kinds of lists and the actress racked up endless nominations and several nominations, upending the myth that female actresses can’t headline the biggest hit of their careers once they turn 50. Still, it proved to not be enough for the Oscars — Hustlers, a film helmed entirely by people of colour, was curiously absent from the Academy Award nominations.
It’s fascinating how sharply the documentary treats Lopez’s Oscars snub as a connecting thread for its argument about the film industry routinely undermining Lopez as a lead actress.
As it suggests in Lopez’s own candid words, she should have been there and her absence is proof of the long-standing intolerance toward the success of people of colour and of the unequal footing provided to female artists. It’s as if the cycle never ends: Lopez keeps proving herself, racking up one success after the other only to have the gatekeepers of Hollywood tell her that she’s not good enough. This exact treatment ruined her self-esteem back when she was just about making a name for herself in the industry. But right now, it only hardens her resolve to take up more room. The closing Superbowl performance is proof of that. Lopez brings out the dance movies, the curves, and the unshakeable confidence during her Halftime performance, going from one act to another like a restless acrobat. But the pièce de résistance of her act is when she brings out her pole-dancing act from Hustlers. It’s magnetic, electrifying, and completely award-worthy. By then, it’s clear as day that not recognizing Lopez’s work on Hustlers is nothing short of an act of malice. Halftime ensures that the world remembers it. Halftime is streaming on Netflix
Poulomi Das is a film and culture writer, critic, and programmer. Follow more of her writing on Twitter . Read all the Latest News , Trending News , Cricket News , Bollywood News , India News and Entertainment News here. Follow us on Facebook , Twitter and Instagram