‘The End of an Era’ Review: Taylor Swift Tour Disney+ Docuseries

“I wanted to over-serve the fans. That was my main goal,” says Taylor Swift in Disney+’s docuseries The End of an Era. And while she is talking specifically about the Eras Tour, the juggernaut event that earned record-breaking grosses over 21 months and 149 shows, she might as well be talking about the past several years of her life in general. In which case, goal accomplished. Not even the most ravenous Swiftie could possibly argue at this point that our pop goddess has been holding out on us.

Since the tour’s launch in 2023, Swift has dropped two new albums, two “Taylor’s Version” re-recordings and a high-profile engagement. (The latter may not be part of her professional career per se, but no fan would deny that watching their fairy tale romance play out in public has been part of the fun.)

The Eras Tour itself has, in addition to the actual three-and-a-half-hour set, yielded a commemorative photo book, not one but two concert films (Taylor Swift | The Eras Tour | The Final Show also drops on Disney+ today), and now this, a six-part peek behind it all. Like most soft-focus docs about powerfully beloved musicians, this collage of interviews, behind-the-scenes footage and concert B-roll paints a flattering portrait that will primarily be of interest to those already bought into the Taylor Swift ecosystem. But those followers should be pleased with the warm intimacy (albeit carefully negotiated, artist-approved intimacy) on offer here.

The End of an Era is hardly a juicy tell-all. (For a more revealing examination of the musician’s inner life, you’re better off going back to Lana Wilson’s documentary Miss Americana, released in 2020 when Swift was “just” an A-list pop star and not the world-swallowing phenomenon she is today.) The first two hourlong episodes released today — four more will be released over the next two weeks — are a pleasant meander through the experience of assembling and performing the Eras tour, focused mostly but not exclusively on Swift.

It does, however, offer up fun little glimpses into Swift’s daily life, in scenes of her playfully scolding her cats as they fight on her bed, or rehearsing with friend and tour special guest Florence Welch, or phoning her fiancé, Kansas City Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce.

In one call, the couple lard each other with so much praise, it’s hard not to wonder how much they’re playing it up for the cameras: “How are you guys so good?” says Kelce as she preps for a special guest appearance by Ed Sheeran. But later, when she enthuses that the crowd seemed to know exactly the energy she needed and he assures her that they definitely did, you remember he’s one of the few people in the world who knows exactly what it’s like to get up to perform for thousands of screaming fans on a regular basis. And what might have sounded like a sweet but empty assurance coming from anyone else sounds like gospel truth coming from him.

It’s in scenes like these, apparently unguarded and emotional and off the cuff, that The End of an Era is most compelling and endearing. But there are other moments where the tension between polished superstardom and authentic “realness” feels more poignant. When Swift chokes up recounting the summer of 2024, when the fatal stabbing of three children in a Swift-themed dance class was followed just days later by a terrorist threat that cancelled three shows in Vienna, I felt moved and guilty at the same time: Who was I to watch this woman grapple with such intensely private feelings?

The answer was, of course, “a fan.” More than arguably any pop star on her level, Swift has made “relatability” a part of her brand, and this docuseries has been made with not only her blessing but her active involvement; clearly, she’s determined that this is a part of herself she’s willing to share with the world. But when she talks of feeling “hunted,” and her pal Sheeran — another person intensely familiar with the spotlight — clucks that “I feel like people have forgotten that you’re a human being amongst all of this as well,” you wonder if leaning in to watch this woman weep is more about empathy on our part or parasocial voyeurism.  

Not that The End of an Era is equipped to philosophize, or particularly interested in philosophizing, about pop stardom on that level. That interlude aside, the docuseries feels almost too chill, in contrast to the ecstatic energy of the tour itself. There are many shots of fans filling into stadiums or cry-screaming their favorite lyrics from the front row; interviews with Swift’s musicians and dancers, who marvel at how impressed with each other’s work ethic they are and what a wonderful experience this has been; and (most amusingly) peeks inside the cleaning cart Swift famously used to hide while getting transported around various stadiums. It’s all very sweet and, unless you’re a really avid Swiftie, inessential.

There is not (unlike in Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé, half a concert movie and half a behind-the-scenes documentary) a ton of insight into the creative inspirations that went into designing the show, or the day-to-day logistics of mounting it in a different city each week. But the series does make a point of highlighting Swift’s collaborators, devoting mini-profiles to assistant choreographer and dancer Amanda Balen and dancer Kameron Saunders. The most fervent of her following will know these names well, and everyone else will get the chance to marvel, through Balen’s story, at how physically demanding this job can be, or admire, through Saunders’, how warm and inclusive a workplace the tour was.

If both of these segments feel designed to refract a flattering light back on Swift and her tour — well, that’s part and parcel of this whole exercise. The End of an Era is a victory lap for a job well done rather than an event in its own right. But after so many songs, so many albums, so many nights on the road and so many records broken, it’s hard to deny Swift and her Eras Tour have earned it.