Movies I Love, Part XII: Saturday Night Fever

Posted: November 12th, 2008 | Filed under: Cinema, Culture, Features, Music | No Comments »

So I heard “Stayin’ Alive” on the radio this afternoon. Which got me to thinking, as I’m wont to do, about the film it’s from, “Saturday Night Fever.” It’s a great flick.

It is variously flawed but a marvelously compelling bit of cinema. From the very opening scene under the credits, which I’ve provided for your viewing pleasure.

Watch Tony’s rhythm as he walks down the street carrying a can of paint on the way back to the paint store where he works. He’s checking out the women and a new shirt for the weekend. Earnest. Vain, just short of cocky. Thinking he’s in charge of his future. With some understanding of his flaws.

John Travolta’s Tony Manero is one of the great characters from the halcyon days of American movies, which were the 70’s. He was jobbed when it came Oscar time. Travolta was nominated but Richard Dreyfuss stole the statuette for “The Goodbye Girl.”

At home in Brooklyn, Tony’s just his father’s underwhelming son. At the disco, he’s king of the boards. The rest of the time he dreams of crossing the bridge and making his way in Manhattan, while he hangs with obviously futureless buddies.

This is an urban tale of urban (far from urbane) dreams of escape. It’s a tale of going for the wrong girl, eschewing the one who loves you for the one who seems to have the promise you hope for but probably doesn’t.

There are some grisly turns in the film. Like the exposition of the way Tony and his friends treat the women that attract (or don’t attract) them. Like his friend who realizes the pitfalls of the future.

There is hope for Tony but it is fragile. (The sequel to this movie should be avoided at all costs.)

I love the story. I love Travolta’s mesmerizing performance. And, frankly, I love the iconic disco soundtrack featuring the Bee Gees.

This is a movie that resonated around the globe. One of my favorite stories was shared by some friends on holiday in the Greek islands a year or so after the film was released.

When the Manero-aged waiter realized that they were Americans, and from New York no less, he became excited. When he returned to the table, he was wearing a white disco suit. He looked at my friends, adopted Travolta’s famous dance pose with leg cocked and one arm in the air, smiled broadly and declared, “John Travolta!”.

John Travolta indeed.

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