It wasn't a concert.
It was a spectacle.
A whirlwind of sequins, 20-foot flames and flying gymnastics, with a little bit of music wedged somewhere in the background.
The Bryce Jordan Center exploded into frantic applause as O-Town finished its sweet boy-band favorite, "All Or Nothing." The eclectic crowd, comprising a mix of college students, eight-year-old girls and their patient parents, smiled in pop-fueled pleasure as O-Town's wake settled and anticipation of the infamous Britney built.
And then there she was. The icon emerged in a lacy, old-fashioned nightgown and cap, bearing a lantern reminiscent of "The Night Before Christmas," a harbinger of the tour's theme, Dream Within a Dream.
The immense TV screens above the stage flashed images of computer-animated aliens and fairy tale scenes, interrupted intermittently by the face of an awestruck little girl.
Enter: A whacked out bass player in flared purple pants and a matching cape.
Enter: Most post-pubescent boys' dream; Britney rotating on a silver disk suspended high above the crowd.
The dance routine that followed could only be compared to a hyped-up version of the Village People: Britney being thrust from one end of the stage to another as her co-dancers, dressed as cops, cowboys and Halloween-ready freaks, gyrated in perfect synchronization, waving neon flags, catching Britney in a fishing net and prancing across the stage, wild pink hair flowing energetically behind them.
Glowsticks, sold by vendors for the exorbitant price of $8, shone blue and green as the enthusiastic audience waved them in time to the music.
Britney re-emerged magically from an invisible hole in the stage to perform "Overprotected" in a denim jumpsuit with bronze patches, accompanied by her appropriately "protected" dancers in biohazard-type suits. Flames shot up wildly at random intervals and fireworks lit up the sides of the stage in Disney World-worthy special effects.
Britney played on her good-girl/bad-girl image as she transformed from her sexy skin-exposing self into a fairy princess ballerina dancing atop a giant music box, upon which she lip-synched to a medley of her more innocent numbers, including "Lucky."
Presto-chango, before long a sleek, sexy male dancer was manhandling her and she was taking part in an artificial orgy, a collective mass of toned dancers randomly groping each other, accented by the ear-splitting boom of fireworks.
Britney paused to address her adoring audience with a few things she had to "get off (her) chest."
"I get a lot of flak for what I wear and what I say. I'm not a little girl anymore and I do those things because that's the way I feel," Spears said. "I'm doing exactly what I want to do and I'm performing all my wildest dreams."
After actually singing one song with piano accompaniment, she went on to "fly" above the audience, strapped into a bungee-cord harness, as she and her cohorts simulated the act of running through space, doing gymnastics and tumbling through the air.
The whole production was an elaborate, highly homogenized display of capitalism at its finest. But did the people buy it?
"It was awesome. She rocks. The dancing is fantastic. The special effects, the lights, everything, its mind-blowing to see everything at once," said Maureen McMahon (senior-secondary education).
"It's spectacular. She flies around and does all these things on harnesses. I came for the entertainment part. Plus, she's beautiful," said Pascal Midy (sophomore-computer engineering).
Britney Spears brought many things to the Jordan Center stage, the least of which perhaps being her music. Still, the show achieved what it sought out to do: bring a teenage fantasy to a tangible reality. Walking out felt like emerging from a scene from Disney's Fantasia laced with a dusting of mediocre pop.
