Review: Saturday Night Fever (1977)




Time to go back to ’77 one more time to look upon a film that encapsulates an entire decade to some. It’s one whose style oscillates between ‘seventies’ and ‘REALLY seventies’. It’s one that put Travolta on the map, for the first time, before Grease—and one so rooted in one specific time and one specific instance of pop culture, yet one that still resonates just a little to this day. Let’s see if this one’s stayin’ alive with Saturday Night Fever. 


By one way or another, some are at least familiar with the image of white-suited Travolta tearing up a disco floor—and assume that’s what the whole film’s about. Which…well, there’s certainly disco, dancing, and bad suits involved, but at the same time, the film spends more time building up our lead character Tony Manero (who, for a time at least, could claim to be one of the most iconic cinematic Italian-Americans alongside Rocky Balboa). Who seems to be trying to make something out of his existence in a rougher neighborhood of Queens, alongside his boorish friends who are happy to express all the charming sentiments you might expect from this time and place. 


Despite the setup and the dancing, there’s not exactly light themes being touched on here. We have cultural and familial pressures on a newer generation to conform to what their peers may have pre-determined, we have ethnic tensions brewing in the urban sprawl, we have youths with a less than assured future trying to burn their younger years with meaningless debauchery…but then we have what many paid money to see, which was Travolta owning the dancefloor. Woo, woo, look at him go!


Stare at this long enough and you'll materialize sideburns.


In many ways, this was the film that helped disco take over the US and beyond for just a fleeting few years that you’d think lasted interminably from the way they tend to be referenced. The soundtrack certainly seems to be a ‘best of’ from the era—and, if you’ll forgive my sins…I confess, I do kinda like the Bee Gees. We also have the Trammps, Kool and the Gang, and…sigh…Disco Duck. Which is quick to remind in part you why disco keeled over just as fast as it ascended. 


And, of course, this all builds up to that climactic dance contest with Manero and would be love interest Annette (Donna Pescow), which is followed by some rather disturbing scenes that are about as jarring a change of tone as splicing moments from Saving Private Ryan into Amelie. It’s all ostensibly part of our lead rejecting his lifestyle of chasing glamor and trying to rise above the hole his would-be compatriots are trying to keep him in—but the execution’s not quite all smooth. 


I guess that still makes Saturday Night Fever a more interesting flick than many would assume, getting past the kitsch—and yeah, despite it all, I guess all the moves Travolta pulls off throughout have remained iconic and referenced 45 years later for a reason. After this he went on to do Grease…and eventually his career slumped until it was resurrected by Tarantino with Pulp Fiction. And then it died again when he invested everything into adapting L. Ron Hubbard’s fever dreams with Battlefield Earth! I guess everything goes around in cycles…unlike, I suppose, disco. 


Later dance-themed films like Footloose and Dirty Dancing seemed to remain more popular, perhaps because eighties throwbacks are a little more fashionable than the preceding decade. And while it certainly is a snapshot of that, though this one may not be as perfectly slick as Manero in the club, it at least aims to offer more than just style…

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