Saturday Night Fever
Director: John Badham
Starring: John Travolta, Karen Lynn Gorely
This movie was NOT what I was expecting. I was thinking this would be a fluffy disco version of Pretty Woman or Grease. What I got instead was a filthy, otherworldly piece of bizarro cinema.
The movie is about a schmuck named Tony who has a dead end job and a crummy home life. The only place he gets any feelings of accomplishment or self worth is on the dance floor. He and his jerk gang of friends spend their time dancing, using women, doing drugs, and being racist. Ladies and gentlemen, the 70s.
This movie turned John Travolta into a superstar. I can kind of see why. He was charismatic and likable when he wasn't abusing girls or whining all the time. At least the boy could dance.
And could he ever dance. This movie's strongest suit was it's choreographed disco dancing club scenes (which seem to be the only scenes anyone remembers from this trashy movie). The music was groovin and the people all looked rediculous. It was really a strange experience watching these scenes. Each bar he walked into seemed as bizarre and foreign as the Mos Eisley Cantina. The lighting was soft, the fog was rolling, and the disco ball was dazzling. The shots and atmosphere were so weird and unlike anything you could find in the world today. It was almost like watching some alien culture.
This movie was really pretty disgusting. I found myself hating all the characters and wondering what the point of it all was. I think they should have just stuck to the weird clubs and tried not to make any important life statements.
Lesson learned: Don't dance on bridges.
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