Strength of this musical film is in demonstrating how Billie Eilish’s music resonates with teenagers and young adults alike

By Funeka Patience Bambalele

I walked into the media screening of Billie Eilish: Hit Me Hard and Soft Live in 3D in Sandton not knowing what to expect.

 I’m a music junkie of note, yes, but I wasn’t familiar with a single Billie Eilish song. Two hours later, I walked out humming melodies I had never heard before — that’s how deeply this film gets under your skin.  Billie Eilish: Hit Me Hard and Soft Live in 3D was released on May 8.

What struck me immediately is how Eilish emerged and dominated global charts at a time when the world was paralysed by fear and uncertainty during Covid‑19. And not in the cliché sense — she carries the same emotional clarity and sonic honesty that once defined artists like Dido, Imogen Heap, Joan Osborne, Sinéad O’Connor, and Vanessa Carlton.

Many might not know her, but her impact is undeniable: two Emmy Awards, 10 Grammy Awards, Golden Globe Awards and a global fan base that treats her music like oxygen. Eilish is the kind of artist who can do it all: sing, write, produce, and play multiple instruments.

The film captures her not as a pop product but as a complete musician. Shot across two arenas — Manchester in the UK and Phoenix in the US — the concert layout alone is a marvel. The film also offers glimpses into her life on tour: her injuries, her exhaustion, her rituals (including the famous “puppy room”). These moments humanise her without stripping away the mystique.

You understand why she performed in some of the concert with injuries because of her constant jumping, sprinting across the stage, dropping to the floor, bouncing back up, and engaging the crowd is athletic work, not just performance.

The show opens with a striking visual: a long, grey rectangular stage stretching through the centre of the arena, its minimalist surface cutting cleanly across the space like a runway built for pure movement. On either side, two sunken square pits house the band, their placement creating a layered depth that keeps the music present but never distracting from the performance above.

Surrounded by the audience on all sides, she steps into an environment that feels both intimate and expansive, a space built for running, leaping, collapsing, and rising again — a stage that mirrors the emotional and physical journey she takes the crowd on from the very first moment.

One of the most striking elements is the audience. Great swaths of fans sing every lyric with a kind of emotional purity that borders on spirituality. They don’t just sing — they cry‑sing. It’s as if the tears and the lyrics are fused into one act of release.

But beyond the accolades, her power lies in how deeply she resonates with teenagers and young adults who feel unseen, unheard, or misunderstood. Her music liberates them. It gives them language for emotions they can’t articulate.