Pop music is fickle. Most tour documentaries vanish into the depths of streaming platforms two weeks after they drop, never to be thought of again by anyone who isn't a stan. But excuse me, i think i love you is different. It’s a time capsule. When Netflix released it in late 2020, it wasn’t just a concert film for Ariana Grande; it was a weirdly emotional bridge between the pre-pandemic world and the "new normal" we were all trying to navigate.
The film follows the Sweetener World Tour. It’s raw. It’s loud. It’s sparkly.
Honestly, the title itself—a lyric from the song "R.E.M"—perfectly captures the vibe of the whole project. It’s a polite, almost bashful acknowledgment of the massive, overwhelming connection between a global superstar and the millions of people who treat her lyrics like scripture. But if you look past the high-glamour ponytail and the over-the-knee boots, there’s a lot of grit under the surface of this documentary that most people actually missed on the first watch.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Sweetener Tour
A lot of critics at the time dismissed this as a "vanity project." They were wrong.
You have to remember what was happening in Ariana’s life during the 2018-2019 era. She was processing the Manchester Arena bombing, the sudden death of Mac Miller, and a very public, very chaotic breakup with Pete Davidson. Most people would have gone into hiding. Instead, she went on a 101-date world tour.
Excuse me, i think i love you doesn't explicitly sit you down for an interview about these tragedies. It doesn't have to. You see it in the way she clings to her dancers like they’re life rafts. You see it in the backstage huddles where the air feels heavy, even when they’re joking around. Director Paul Dugdale, who also did films for Taylor Swift and Adele, focuses on the "found family" aspect. It’s less about the "pop star" and more about the girl trying to keep her head above water while singing some of the most technically demanding vocal runs in modern music history.
The setlist in the film is a masterclass in pacing. It blends the airy, experimental sounds of Sweetener with the trap-heavy, "I’m-doing-this-my-way" energy of thank u, next. When she performs "7 rings," the energy is triumphant. But when she pivots to "breathin," a song literally about anxiety and finding the strength to keep going, the mood shifts. It’s palpable. You can feel the audience holding their breath with her.
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The Technical Magic Behind the Scenes
Let’s talk about the visuals for a second because they’re insane. The tour featured a giant, glowing orb that fans nicknamed "the moon."
- It wasn't just a prop; it was a projection-mapped sphere that changed with every song’s emotional arc.
- The stage featured a semicircular runway that wrapped around the "pit" (the Golden Circle), creating an intimate pocket in the middle of a massive arena.
- The lighting design used a specific palette of lavenders, deep blues, and moody pinks that defined the aesthetic of 2019.
Most concert films fail because they can't translate the scale of an arena to a 13-inch laptop screen. Dugdale avoids this by using tight, intimate shots. You see the sweat. You see the way her hands shake slightly during the quiet moments. It makes the excuse me, i think i love you experience feel less like a broadcast and more like a backstage pass you weren't supposed to have.
The "R.E.M" Connection
Why name it after a line from "R.E.M"?
The song is about a dream. It’s about someone being so perfect that you don't want to wake up. For Ariana, the tour was a dream and a nightmare at the same time. She’s gone on record saying that performing these songs was "healing" but also "re-traumatizing." By choosing that specific lyric, she’s acknowledging that the relationship she has with her fans is a sort of shared dream state.
"Excuse me, i think i love you." It’s a confession.
It’s also a nod to the fact that this tour saved her. During the documentary, there’s a scene where she’s crying before going on stage, overwhelmed by the love from the crowd. It’s not "showbiz" crying. It’s the sound of someone who is genuinely surprised they made it to the finish line.
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Behind the Vocals: No Lip-Syncing Here
There’s a persistent myth in pop music that every "dancing" star is miming their vocals. Excuse me, i think i love you effectively shuts that down.
The audio mix is surprisingly honest. You hear the breaths. You hear the slight vocal fry when she’s tired. You hear the whistle notes in "no tears left to cry" hitting the back of the arena. Ariana Grande is a vocalist first and a celebrity second, and the film treats her voice like a lead instrument. The arrangements are often different from the studio versions, featuring more live instrumentation and jazzy transitions that show off her theater-kid roots.
Basically, if you think she’s just a studio creation, watch the performance of "God is a woman" in this film and try to tell me that’s not raw talent.
The Cultural Impact of the Film's Release
Timing is everything in the entertainment world.
Netflix dropped this on December 21, 2020. Think back to where the world was then. Most of us hadn't been to a concert in nine months. Theaters were closed. Festivals were canceled. We were all stuck in our houses, staring at walls.
Suddenly, we had this high-definition, high-energy explosion of live music. It wasn't just a movie; it was a reminder of what it felt like to be in a room with 20,000 strangers, all screaming the same words at the top of their lungs. It fed a hunger for human connection that we didn't even realize was that deep. It’s one of the reasons it trended globally for days. People weren't just watching it; they were having watch parties, dressing up in their bedrooms, and recreating the choreography on TikTok.
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It served as the final chapter of her most prolific era. After this, she shifted. She released Positions, she got married, she joined The Voice, and eventually, she disappeared into the world of Wicked. This film is the "the end" at the bottom of a very long, very complicated page in her life.
How to Get the Most Out of Your Rewatch
If you’re going back to watch it now, don't just look at Ariana. Look at the dancers—people like Brian and Scott Nicholson, who have been with her since the beginning. Their chemistry is the heartbeat of the show. Watch the way the crowd reacts during the transition into "Dangerous Woman."
Pay attention to the color theory. The way the stage turns blood red for the darker tracks and then dissolves into a celestial white for the finale is intentional. It’s a journey from the earth to the stars.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Creators:
- Study the Brand Consistency: Notice how the film’s grainy, film-stock aesthetic matches the thank u, next album art. It’s a lesson in cohesive branding.
- Vocal Health: Aspiring singers should note how she uses her "head voice" to navigate the long setlist without blowing out her vocal cords.
- Emotional Resilience: The film is a case study in "the show must go on," but it also validates the idea that it’s okay to be a mess behind the scenes as long as you have a support system.
- Minimalist Storytelling: You don't need a narrator to tell a story. The sequence of songs and the candid backstage moments tell the story of the Sweetener era better than any "talking head" interview ever could.
The next time you find yourself scrolling through Netflix, give it another look. It’s not just a concert. It’s a record of a woman who was handed the worst circumstances imaginable and decided to turn them into a 100-minute love letter to her fans. That’s why excuse me, i think i love you remains the gold standard for modern pop docs. It’s honest, it’s loud, and it doesn't apologize for being either.