Katy Perry’s Wells Fargo ‘Lifetimes Tour’ stop wasn’t exactly bad. We’re shocked, too.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, flailing through the Wells Fargo Center’s rafters, wanting to start again?

That’s the vibe Katy Perry’s much-maligned “Lifetimes Tour” brought to the South Philadelphia arena Saturday. The concert had Perry throwing literally everything at the ceiling — pyrotechnics, an animatronic butterfly, herself — in an attempt to outrun both irrelevancy and another bout of bad press.

Fortunately for Perry, and shockingly for me, her everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach kind of works.

After the “Lifetimes Tour” kicked off in Mexico City last September, out-of-context videos of Perry fighting what looks like an HVAC duct with a lightsaber, running laps on stage, dangling from wires, and turbo-twerking went viral on social media. People called the clips “tough to watch,” “messy,” and — worst of all — like “Temu’s version of the Eras Tour.”

In real life, these bits actually do make sense, building upon one another to create an outlandishly campy video game world that tracks with Perry’s history as a tongue-in-cheek provocateur. She shot whipped cream out of a bra and sang inside a toilet at her Las Vegas residency. So why can’t she battle an HVAC tube with a lightsaber and mean it?

Well, because it looks like she doesn’t.

Inauthenticity bogs down the “Lifetimes Tour” in the same way it has bogged down the last year of Perry’s career.

After cosplaying as an astronaut for 11 minutes on the all-female Blue Origin space trip, Perry released 143, an album that received reviews like “painfully dated” from the Independent and “pop trash” from the Los Angeles Times for its set of uninspired hits. The album went to become Metacritic’s worst-reviewed release by a female artist and had poor sales, marred by Perry’s decision to collaborate with controversial producer Dr. Luke, who has been accused of sexual assault by Kesha.

But on Saturday, none of that seemed to matter to the crowd of mother-daughter duos who filled the venue in rainbow-colored wigs and sequined, fringe skirts. Nor the fact that Perry may have borrowed the concept of a mid-career legacy tour from Taylor Swift, and her aerial work from Pink, while failing to execute either successfully. They were here to see Katy Perry be Katy Perry, and the flashes when she was just herself were stellar.

Before I get to the praise, I need to explain the plot. The premise of the “Lifetimes Tour” is that Katy Perry has transformed into KP143, a half-human, half-cyborg video game character who must save the world from a power-hungry artificial intelligence who has stolen the life from society by trapping all of its butterflies.

To prove this point, Perry seemingly utilizes dystopian AI graphics between set changes, flitting in and out of pop star and video game protagonist mode. And yet, the show is remarkably well-paced and front-loaded with hits.

After a brief set from opener Rebecca Black — who went from early 2010s meme to a very credible DJ and pop singer — Perry descended from the air in a metal cage.

Soon after, she dove into a delightful ’80s synth remix of Witness’ “Chained to the Rhythm,” shuffling in a metallic-armored body suit while her team of all-male dancers pantomime life through VR headsets. It’s futurist in a silly way, disarming the crowd of whatever expectations they may have had.

Shortly after, Perry took on a nostalgia-driven medley of her biggest 2000s and 2010s hits: “California Girls,” “Teenage Dream,” “Hot N Cold,” “Last Friday Night,” and “I Kissed a Girl.” She looked and sounded the most natural during this part of the concert, letting the pop-punk creep back into her voice while jamming out on guitar. This section was also comparatively no-frills, allowing Perry to do what she is best at: crowd work.

“Some kids here are 8 years old and younger. No, I’m not Dua Lipa,” Perry joked in yet another structured bodysuit, this one with green webbing. “I’m kind of like Dua Lipa’s aunt.”

Despite the quips, Perry’s youngest fans, evidently, worship her.

Midway through the concert, Perry pulled two girls named Savannah and Sophia out of the crowd and onstage, and asked them (rather earnestly) about what they want to be when they grow up. She talked about hair tinsel with Savannah, an aspiring hairdresser, and whipped out splits with Sophia, a budding gymnast. Together, they performed a heartwarming acoustic rendition of “The One That Got Away” with a third fan named Cory, an adult who produces for QVC.

Everything seemed right and, for a moment, I thought everyone had gotten it wrong. Then, the show took a nosedive.

After another costume change, Perry returned to stage recommitted to the video game bit. She hung suspended from the air during “NIRVANA” and “CRUSH,” a duo of mid-tempo clubbing songs from 143 that don’t demand any sort of aerial work. Yet, Perry flung herself around the Wells Fargo Center like a rag doll, hanging upside down almost limp at one point.

Then came the dreaded lightsaber.

Perry swung it around to battle her dancers — who were now dressed as aliens — and, yes, the HVAC duct. The segment played out to “E.T.” and “Part of Me,” two hits diminished by the playfighting. She hit all the right notes, but her half-hearted lightsaber blows didn’t land.

Of course, Katy Perry defeats the evil AI, frees the butterflies, and flies around the Wells Fargo Center atop a giant animatronic butterfly. It’s a thoughtful touch for those in the nosebleeds, who get to see Perry up close as she belted out “Roar” to thunderous — and partially unearned — applause.

The “Lifetimes Tour” isn’t actually bad or messy. It is something else entirely, a Rocky Horror Picture Show of a concert — sometimes so bad, you can’t help but root for it to be good.