Bad Bunny: The New Face of the 'American' Super Bowl
This has to be one of my favorite Super Bowl halftime performances—if not, dare I say, my favorite.
Bad Bunny stepped onto that stage not just as a global superstar, but as a statement. From the first note of Tití Me Preguntó, he didn’t simply invite us to dance—he reminded us where he comes from. The neighborhoods of Puerto Rico. The streets that raised him. The rhythms that connect millions across the globe.
This was not a typical halftime show. In just under 13 minutes, he packed in 12 songs spanning joy, protest, love, and pride.
He crossed the field waving flags from around the world. He performed Debí Tirar Más Fotos alongside a choir of friends, grounding the spectacle in memory and reminding us to hold close the people and moments that actually matter. Then la casita rose onstage—a Puerto Rican village house standing tall as a symbol of roots and resilience.
And beneath all of it, Bad Bunny was making something very clear: music from Puerto Rico, from Latin neighborhoods, from the slums, belongs at the center of global culture.
He threaded his activism throughout the set—the power outage imagery of El Apagón, the empowerment of Yo Perreo Sola, the immigrant tribute Nuevayol. The result was a halftime show that was just as socially and politically charged as it was visually stunning.
By the end, there was no question. This wasn’t just a performance. It was a cultural statement.
And y’all—we’re breaking down every beat, every visual, every lyric, every symbolic move. Because Bad Bunny didn’t just headline the Super Bowl. He reshaped what performing on the world’s biggest stage can look like.
A Historic Moment for Latin Music
For the first time in the Super Bowl’s 60-year history, a solo artist delivered an entire halftime performance in Spanish.
Let that sit for a second.
This is the same artist coming off Grammy history, winning Album of the Year with an all-Spanish album. And I don’t think it’s fully clocking to y’all that he really shut this shit down and said, baby, Latinos—we are here and here to stay.
Reshaping how Latin music is perceived in mainstream media is not easy. But he did that shit.
Puerto Rico at the Center of the World
The performance transformed Levi’s Stadium into a Puerto Rican vecindad, blending nostalgia with national pride.
At the center stood la casita, painted pink and yellow, surrounded by sugar cane fields, palm trees, and Caribbean landscapes pulled straight from memory. Costumes and choreography—especially the pava straw hats worn by dancers—deepened the connection to Puerto Rican heritage.
Across the 13-minute set, Bad Bunny performed 12 songs, including highlights from his 2026 Grammy-winning Album of the Year, Debí Tirar Más Fotos. He opened with Latino pride and closed holding a football inscribed with “Together, we are America,” a direct statement on unity and inclusion.
Fashion That Let the Message Lead
Bad Bunny is known for bold fashion choices. This is the same man who delivered Schiaparelli’s first major menswear red carpet moment at the Grammys.
But for Super Bowl LX, he went minimal—and intentional.
The look, designed by Zara and styled by Storm Pablo and Marvin Douglas Linares, was head-to-toe cream: a collared shirt, tie, sport-inspired jersey 64 (a nod to his mother, Lysaurie Ocasio, born in 1964), chinos, and sneakers.
It was understated but not empty. Knowing he once told Vogue, “I don’t like it when I don’t feel like I’ve dressed myself,” the fit still felt confident and fully him. It stepped back so the music, message, and cultural symbolism could take the spotlight.
A Minute-by-Minute Cultural Breakdown
0–2 Minutes: Rural Roots & Jíbaro Pride
The performance opened with a man in a traditional pava declaring, “How great it is to be Latino.”
The stage mirrored sugar cane fields, referencing the labor and resilience of Puerto Rican farmers. Dancers in rural attire set the tone immediately, grounding the spectacle in the island’s agricultural and cultural roots.
2–4 Minutes: The Vecindad & Street Life
With Yo Perreo Sola, the tempo shifted and the stadium became a living Puerto Rican neighborhood.
Piragua carts. Domino tables with viejitos. A barbershop. Everyday street life unfolded on the field—community as culture, culture as survival.
4–6 Minutes: La Casita & the House Party
Around the four-minute mark, Bad Bunny moved into la casita, a nod to his grandparents’ home and a familiar symbol for fans who’ve followed his tours.
The house transformed into a full-on party de marquesina. Cardi B, Karol G, Pedro Pascal—just neighbors, just vibes. Loud, chaotic, and deeply familiar.
6–8 Minutes: Salsa, Weddings, and Shared Memory
Midway through the set, Lady Gaga joined him for a salsa-infused rendition of “Die With a Smile,” performed beneath a 3D Flamboyán tree—one of Puerto Rico’s most iconic symbols.
The choreography blended bomba and plena rhythms, backed by traditional instruments like the cuatro and güiro. Then came the wedding.
For some viewers, it probably felt random. But it wasn’t. A Bad Bunny representative confirmed it was a real, legally binding ceremony—which is fucking iconic. Imagine saying your wedding happened during the Super Bowl halftime show.
Weddings in Latin culture symbolize love, unity, and community, so thematically, it fit perfectly.
And then there was that split-second moment—the little boy asleep on the plastic chairs. Every Latin kid understood it immediately. As kids, it meant the party had gone on too long. As adults, we know it meant nobody was ready to let the night end.
It was subtle. It was quick. And it hit.
8–10 Minutes: Resilience, Memory, and Ricky Martin
Toward the end, Ricky Martin appeared, seated in those iconic plastic chairs, anchoring a segment centered on Puerto Rico’s resilience after Hurricane Maria.
You might recognize those chairs from the Debí Tirar Más Fotos album cover, but beyond that—they’re universal. Everyone had them. You pulled them out for guests. Your thighs stuck to them in the summer heat.
Simple objects. Deep memory.
10–13 Minutes: Pan-Latino Unity
The finale brought everything together—la casita, the sugar cane fields, the street vendors.
Flags from across Latin America and the Caribbean filled the stadium, symbolizing unity and pride. A reminder that “America” is bigger than just the United States.
And then the football appeared: “Together, we are America.”
Yeah. Absolute tea.
Why This Halftime Show Will Live Forever
This is exactly why this halftime show will live in history long after the game is over.
Which, by the way, I didn’t watch. I don’t give two shits about football. I bought a YouTube TV subscription solely for the halftime show and turned it off right after. As I’m writing this, I still have no idea who won. But none of that matters.
Bad Bunny didn’t water himself down. He didn’t translate himself. He didn’t ask for permission. He brought Puerto Rico—Latino joy, grief, humor, memory, and resistance—exactly as it is and said, this belongs here. On the most American stage possible, he made one thing crystal clear: America already looks like this. America already sounds like this.
This was about claiming space. About telling every Latino kid watching from their abuela’s living room, every immigrant family, every person ever told their culture was “too much” or “not enough” for mainstream media, that they are not guests in the American dream.
They are the fucking dream.
And if the Super Bowl is any indication of where culture is headed, then one thing is certain: the future is bilingual, unapologetic, and very much ours.
