Madonna Loves Fans, Hates Their Questions

If you really want to learn how to throw a party and make an entrance, take a page out of Madonna’s book: Invite celebs like Rachel Roy, Martha Stewart, Kelly Osbourne, Salman Rushdie, David Blaine, Questlove and Christian Siriano. Put them all in the same place as your rabid fanbase — and then make people wait for more than 60 minutes in mysterious mayhem.

Such was the case June 18 at the EPIX world premiere of concert film “Madonna: The MDNA Tour” in Gotham. After waiting in the rain, fans and press filed into the Paris Theater to get a seat close to the front of the auditorium, where the legendary queen would later be seated for “an intimate conversation.”

Many of Madge’s fans were confined to a balcony, where catcalls and camera flashes went aflutter when the likes of Stewart and Co. walked in. The screening was slated to begin at 8 p.m., but there was, for quite a while, no sight nor word of Madonna.

As the clock ticked on, the theater neared max capacity, and many attendees were becoming delirious: some killing time with conversations about elbow fat, plastic surgery and steak, and others wondering if their time was really less important than her majesty’s: “No, she’s Madonna. She can do whatever she wants.”

Some fans started singing Madonna songs to conjure up some good please-arrive-any-minute-now juju. And even some debated happiness over health: Should I go to the bathroom? What if she comes in when I’m gone?

Nobody seemed to know where she was, or what was taking so long — but the room exploded when one fan came running down the aisle shrieking: “I saw her! I saw her!” The clock had struck nine, Madonna’s “Celebration” turned on and the venue erupted.

There was a standing ovation, followed by more blinding flashes — and the fans in the balcony leaned over (almost to the point of no return) to catch glimpses of their goddess. She waltzed in with an overdose of swagger, clad in what can only be described as a flawless mash-up of Fred Astaire and Michael Jackson (i.e., suit, top hat, chainmail glove). She called it an homage to Marlene Dietrich.

The screening commenced when the screaming ceased, and “MDNA” played out like a two-hour live concert.
Afterward, Madonna took her throne and announced that her tour, which spanned from May 2012 to December 2012, was now officially over.

“Go hard,” she said. “Or go home.”

After thanking the crowd for showing up, Madonna took questions — some good, some not so good.

One fan asked what kind of workout the queen did to stay in shape for the 88-show tour.

“I hate those questions,” Madonna said. “I did the show every fucking night. How’s that for a workout? I mean, did you watch?”

The fan said, “Thank you.”

Others asked about her costumes and her mood.

“Are you ready to start thinking for yourself?” she rallied, before her time was up. “Are you ready to stop caring about what other people have to say about what you do? Can I get a fuck yeah?”

The audience boomed back with a massive fuck yeah, and Madonna revealed her next project: a secretive collaboration of sorts with New York photog-artist Steven Klein, in the form of a one-minute trailer.

But the fanfare and the fanaticism wasn’t over. Just as the rain was ending, revelers made their way to Harlow to party and start the “love revolution.”

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