Rap Takes Over Super Bowl Halftime, Balancing Celebration and Protest

Leading up to Sunday’s Super Bowl halftime show, much ado was made over the fact that this would be the first year that hip-hop occupied the center of the concert. It was marketing copy that overlooked the glaring lateness of the achievement — that rap was finally getting the spotlight in perhaps the 20-somethingth year of hip-hop occupying the center of American pop music. Does progress this delayed still count as a breakthrough?

After several years of grappling with an assortment of racial controversies, the N.F.L. likely wanted credit for showcasing Black music — especially hip-hop, the lingua franca of American pop culture — this prominently. What would some of rap music’s generational superstars — Dr. Dre, Eminem, Snoop Dogg, Kendrick Lamar — titans with little fear for their reputations, do with this most visible of platforms?

The stories told on the SoFi Stadium field Sunday night were multilayered, a dynamic performance sprawling atop a moat of potential political land mines. In the main, there was exuberant entertainment, a medley of hits so central to American pop that it practically warded off dissent.

Dr. Dre opened up the performance behind a mock mixing board, a nod to the root of his celebrity: the ability to mastermind sound. For the next 12 minutes, vivid and thumping hits followed, including “The Next Episode,” a wiry collaboration between Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, wearing a blue bandanna-themed sweatsuit; “California Love” (mercifully, delivered without a hologram of Tupac Shakur, as some had rumored); Eminem’s stadium-shaking “Lose Yourself”; Lamar’s pugnacious and proud “Alright”; and a pair of songs from Mary J. Blige, the lone singer on the bill.

50 Cent, hanging upside down from the ceiling of the set, was an unannounced guest, performing his breakout hit “In Da Club,” one of Dr. Dre’s seminal productions. (This was almost certainly the most bleeped halftime show ever.)

The performances were almost uniformly excellent. Lamar was stunning — ecstatically liquid in flow, moving his body with jagged vigor. Snoop Dogg was confident beyond measure, a veteran of high-pressure comfort. Eminem, insular as ever, still emanated robust tension. Blige was commanding, helping to bring the middle segment of the show into slow focus with a joyous “Family Affair” and “No More Drama,” rich with purple pain. And Dr. Dre beamed throughout, a maestro surveying the spoils of the decades he spent reorchestrating the shape and texture of pop.

But the true battles of this halftime show were between enthusiasm and cynicism, censorship and protest, the amplification of Black performers on this stage and the stifling of Black voices in various stages of protest against the N.F.L. Just a couple of weeks ago, the N.F.L. was sued by the former Miami Dolphins head coach Brian Flores who said he had faced discriminatory hiring practices.

This halftime show, which scanned as an oasis of racial comity if not quite progressivism, was the third orchestrated as part of a partnership between the N.F.L. and Jay-Z’s entertainment and sports company, Roc Nation, that was struck in the wake of the kneeling protests…