Grade: A (90/100)
Year Released: 1977
I knew from the first few minutes of Saturday Night Fever that it was going to be a movie I enjoyed. And I was right! It's hard not to appreciate the work put in by the star, John Travolta, who positively shines as a very believable Tony Manero, a nineteen-year-old from the wrong side of the tracks whose sole reason for existing is his dedication to disco dancing. It's clear that Travolta has much in common with his character; indeed, the subtle effects of certain directorial decisions, such as casting members of Travolta's own family in minor roles, pays off, creating a very whole picture of a young man who is, at the same time, likable and despicable. Tony Manero is not an antihero because he's not really a hero- he's just a kid whose talent for dancing and occasional bouts of childlike innocence make him sympathetic in the eyes of the audience. His faults can be seen as byproducts of the environment he's been brought up in- his attitude towards women, his involvement with petty thugs (including a slight side plot involving racial tensions between teenage gangs), and his often frustrating decisions don't serve to vilify him, but instead show him as a dynamic character, one who is both imperfect and conscious, struggling to find his place in the world.
As someone who has grown up in the aftershock of influential movies, I have seen the waves of inspiration rippled off of Saturday Night Fever. The classic, often-repeated tale of a gifted but troubled teenager who has no family support and struggles to find his way is not limited to dance movies, but anyone under 30 can name several that have come out in the past fifteen years that emulate Tony Manero's story. In a way I felt prepared for Saturday Night Fever, having already experienced the aftershocks of its influence, as though I would be able to make calls and sit through an enjoyable but predictable film. In some ways I was right; foreshadowing scenes such as the one in which Tony and his inebriated friends mess around on the high-wires on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge paired with the backstory of Bobby's unwanted pregnancy dilemma led me to expect the accident that would later rock the movie. However, just expecting the scene did not make it any less dramatic; in fact, the predictability of the film put me particularly on-edge, a delicious side-effect of dramatic irony. I knew that something bad was going to happen, and it made my senses rather sensitive to the film's effects. Director John Badham teases the viewer with the shots of Tony and his buddies swinging around on the wires, even putting in an early scene in which they fake-fall in front of the devastated onlooker Annette, whom the viewer identifies with greatly during moments of tension. In other ways I was wrong about its predictability, particularly in the character of Stephanie, who is in no way the kind of sweet and serious dancer with a heart of gold that she would be in a contemporary film, but rather an obnoxious and equally unsure young woman who is, in essence, the female version of Tony. More importantly, I was wrong in assuming that because Saturday Night Fever is about disco that it would be a happy film all around.
Most disturbing about Saturday Night Fever, in many ways, is its seriousness. This is a movie about a boy who loves to dance, and we're not talking ballet or jazz or even hip hop- he's a disco dancer, perhaps the most ridiculously goofy and parodied form of dance. As a contemporary viewer I found myself delighted and sometimes embarrassed by certain cheesy aspects of the film's style, such as Tony's priceless wardrobe, hair, and ~groovy~ manner of speaking. The scene in which Tony busts out of his bedroom in a black speedo-style brief and a gold chain and frightens his old Italian grandmother is a perfect scene in the way that it explicitly demonstrates the 70s disco counterculture juxtaposed with the traditional values of Tony's devoutly Catholic, Italian family. Saturday Night Fever is not Easy Rider, meant to expose the way the kids are in the face of traditional opposition, but it very subtly shows the significance of disco to kids like Tony and his obnoxious friends, who have no other option to escape their mundane, often challenging lives as the children of struggling, working class Italian-Americans in New York City.
But what I mean when I say that its seriousness is its most disturbing aspect is that with all the silliness in the contemporary perception of disco, a modern-day viewer does not expect many of the dark turns of the film. Like West Side Story before it, the dancing and music (and by the way, the music is one of the best parts of the movie as a whole), are only facades for the deeper problems of the characters. Particularly upsetting is the character of Annette, played by Donna Pescow. A pretty, chubby dancer, she is hopelessly in love with Tony, and throughout the film sacrifices so much of herself for him that she turns into a much darker, layered character than one might expect. In certain ways, Annette represents Tony's struggle to find himself, but not in a manic-pixie-dreamgirl kind of way. Instead, her descent into drugs and sex in response to desertion is reminiscent of the struggles most likely felt by many women of the time and circumstance, and also serves to show Tony clearly that the world he exists in has the capability of ruining a person's life, happiness, and future. Both Annette's fall from grace, marked by a particularly upsetting gang rape scene, and the suicide of Bobby serve to pressure Tony into seeking a better life for himself. When he does, he realizes that the best possible solution to his problem of not knowing what to do is to just be kinder to himself and others. Maybe that's not explicitly stated, but it's what I saw come from the last scene, in which he and Stephanie hug and agree to be friends after he moves to Manhattan in search of a better life for himself. There is new opportunity, the film tells us, when you allow yourself and your potential to grow in a bigger pot with healthier soil.
I thoroughly enjoyed Saturday Night Fever, even despite the cringeworthy counterculture the characters exist in. To put it simply, the dancing is divine and unbelievable, the music is wonderfully addictive and catchy, and the story is smarter than one would think. If you have not seen it and would like to, I watched it on Netflix. It's also available on Amazon Prime and can be purchased, I'm sure, at your local video store.
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