Culture critic Peter Hartlaub stands with a billboard for the “One Direction: This is Us” concert movie at the AMC Metreon in San Francisco. He reviewed the film in 2013.
Courtesy Peter Hartlaub
This story originally ran in 2013 on my old SFGate culture blog The Big Event under the headline “Reflections from the creepy old guy at your kid’s One Direction concert.” It has since been deleted from the site, then rescued by the Internet Archive Wayback Machine.
The arrival of K-pop superstars BTS at Stanford Stadium this week on the Arirang World Tour sparked memories. I moved off my cringey beat shortly after this post was published, but think about it every time a big tween-friendly group comes through town. –Peter Hartlaub
Big mistake: I forgot my earplugs at the early screening of “One Direction: This is Us” last week.
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“Always bring earplugs to drown out the high-pitched screams.” That’s the first rule of covering teen pop star concerts or movies, a beat I have held almost exclusively at the San Francisco Chronicle for the past 10 years. There are other rules: Take an aisle seat, so you can slip out the moment the event is done. (And avoid the crush of kids swarming whatever free stuff might be handed out in the hallway.) If possible, use public transit. More than any other concert, minivan drivers seem to clog the entry of Oracle Arena and the former HP Pavilion.
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But most of all, I try not to look creepy. This is nearly impossible, since I’m a 43-year-old man going stag to a Justin Bieber concert.
Daniele Hollander, 15, left, and Emma Herlihy, 14, both of San Francisco react after the Jonas Brothers greeted fans at the Century San Francisco Centre 9 theater before their movie “Jonas Brothers The 3D Concert Experience” in 2009.
Lea Suzuki/The Chronicle
I look back, and still can’t pinpoint where or when I acquired this beat. It may have started with “American Idol,” which I covered in 2003 because then-Chronicle TV critic Tim Goodman chose not to write about it. But a “High School Musical” show in the mid-2000s was the real turning point. Just as a 12-year-old girl might stand out at Black Sabbath, it’s difficult for a bald man who hasn’t seen middle school in 25 years to look comfortable at a concert aimed at tween girls. Excuse me, a bald man who carries a notebook and pen, and constantly scribbles his thoughts down.
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(Want to look like the worst kind of serial killer? Walk into the middle of the largest crowd of 7th grade girls in the Bay Area, and then quietly start taking notes.)
An incomplete list of the tween-friendly events I’ve covered/reviewed in the past decade: A Hannah Montana movie and a concert; a Justin Bieber movie and concert (with Carly Rae Jepsen opening); a Jonas Brothers movie, live appearance for fans and two concerts; an early Taylor Swift appearance at the Metreon; two “High School Musical” movies, a live show and High School Musical: On Ice!; a Glee Live! concert; at least three American Idol Live! concerts; the One Direction movie.
My two young boys have no interest in boy bands, and it’s not worth the added cost of a babysitter to bring my wife.
I have recruited other people’s pre-teen children to attend concerts with me, in an attempt to blend in with the uncomfortable and forlorn-looking dad chaperones that fill these events. I brought the 11-year-old daughter of my former colleague Vanessa Blyth Marlin (now proprietor of Bell and Trunk Flowers in Potrero Hill) to see Miley Cyrus — Vanessa dropped us off and picked us up — if memory serves in a Volvo. Another time I convinced my colleague Joe Garofoli’s wife Christine and then-tween daughters to accompany me to a Jonas Brothers movie screening, where the boys made a surprise appearance.
Jasmine Lobato, 12, left, and Serina Lee, 12, center, shout out in the theater holding posters before the Jonas Brothers greet fans at Century Theaters inside the Westfield San Francisco Centre in 2009.
Lea Suzuki/S.F. Chronicle 2009
Mostly, I travel alone. Often I’ll end up seated right next to Jim Harrington, critic for the Oakland Tribune and San Jose Mercury News. He’s a very cool guy and I always enjoy his company. But I think we both agree that two dads sans kids hanging out at a Justin Bieber concert looks even more weird than flying solo.
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I’ve tried to get out of other assignments in my career, but never once attempted to punt something from the Chronicle teen-heartthrob-of-the-moment beat. One reason is reporterly pride. Just as I didn’t say no to covering a gruesome murder or accident when I was a police reporter in the 1990s, it feels cowardly to pass on the new One Direction movie.
Another reason is logic. I try not to lose sight of the fact that I’m fortunate to have an extremely great job that I enjoy, and watching a boy band for two hours still beats hot tarring a roof.
But mostly, I think I’m pretty good at it. I have (in the words of a character from one of my favorite movies that didn’t have a boy band in it) a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career: The ability to translate the appeal of teen pop stars for the uninitiated public. I can’t say I’ve savored any of the music in any of these performances, movies or live appearances. But I do recognize even the subtle gradations in quality.
I’ve mostly bashed the Jonas Brothers. (Here’s a sample.) But I’m a “High School Musical” defender. I had a few nice things to say in my review of the Justin Bieber movie. Considering this week’s meltdown at the VMAs, I find it interesting that the best live performance of this kind that I’ve seen was the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus show at Oracle Arena.
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I’m never sure how to dress for a teen pop star concert. In the end, I go for a look I call “Fun Dad Casual.” A short sleeve shirt from Target, open, with a white T-shirt underneath and light jacket was my last choice. No trench coats. No tight black T-shirts.
My editor David Wiegand and Chronicle music critic Aidin Vaziri have never established a formal quid pro quo. But they do seem to make a point of offering me a concert they know I might see on my own — maybe AC/DC or Van Halen — right after I jump on the boy band grenade.
I was serious about the earplugs. Teen pop star concerts are loud in a way that’s hard to compare. I don’t always bring earplugs to Metallica, Rock the Bells (big mistake) or Rush. I would bring them to a Jonas Brothers autograph signing in a mall, even if no amplifiers are set up.
Thanks to my friend/colleague/tolerant movie buddy Beth Spotswood, who accompanied me to the “One Direction” movie. (And took the above photo.) Here’s my San Francisco Chronicle review of the movie.
I receive more angry mail about boy bands and teen pop stars than almost any other subject I write about. If I give a Bieber or a Jonas Brother even a mixed review, girls write me long serious notes, telling me they feel sorry for me and that the Chronicle should send a real reviewer to cover the show.
I always write back the exact same thing.
Good for you for sticking up for your favorite artist, (insert fan’s first name here). You should never let anyone else tell you what you should and shouldn’t like. I’m glad you had a great time at the (concert/movie/ice show) and didn’t let my review ruin it.
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