A main requirement for a halftime performer at the Super Bowl is indestructibility. Too much is on the line for anything but. The halftime show is time-constrained, highly choreographed and responsible for keeping hundreds of millions of people around the world entertained between aggressive bursts of football and extremely expensive bursts of commercials. It is a show, but more important, it is the glue that holds the night together, the short money that keeps the long money flowing.
But there was no way to anticipate that the reliably malfunction-free Beyoncé arriving in New Orleans for her turn at immortality would be a vulnerable one. At the presidential inauguration ceremony last month, she sang the national anthem over a prerecorded vocal track, leading to a minor scandal, putting her on the defensive. Beyoncé, bionic, isn’t used to having her reputation impugned. Vulnerability is not her bag,

She is, though, up to the challenge — in this case, the conundrum of how to make her Super Bowl XLVII halftime show, which she had been planning for months, not only a spectacle in its own right, but also a conclusion to the messy affair.
And so for 12 or so minutes at the center of the Superdome field on Sunday night, she balanced explosions and humanity, imperiousness with warmth, an arena-ready sense of scale with a microscopic approach to the details of her vocals. Amid all the loudness were small things to indicate Beyoncé was answering her skepti.