Saturday Night Fever became such an iconic moment in the American pop culture landscape it is easy to overlook exactly why it was popular in the first place. The film has been so often parodied and satirized for the last 39 years that genuinely loving it is a secret guilty pleasure. Believe it or not, the greatest disco movie ever made also happens to be a great film. Look beyond John Travolta’s white polyester suit and finger confidently pointed straight to the heavens and see the solid story, good acting, and dynamic editing. (Honestly, it’s worth watching for the lighting in the club sequences alone.)
This movie is not only about a young Travolta shaking his booty; the dancing serves the overall narrative. It is a snippet in the life of 19-year-old Tony Manero, who diligently works as a paint store clerk by day and rules the disco on Saturday night. The Maneros are a cliché Italian-American family, complete with giant pasta dinners, a grandmother who doesn’t speak English, a mildly abusive father, and a brother who is a Catholic priest. Outside of the home, you get the feeling Tony can’t even remember why he still hangs out with his group of delinquent friends. Tony meets another dancer who brings out his ambition and he begins to strive for something beyond wining the local discotheque’s dance contest.
Saturday Night Fever does not merely use pop songs to showcase dance routines; the soundtrack is impeccably timed with every sequence of the film. The shot transitions’ musical cues are flawless; as in the famous opening/title sequence where silence is replaced with loud subway noises, which is in turn replaced by “Staying Alive” and Travolta’s now-famous strut. The boys arrive at the club with the well-known violins from “A Fifth of Beethoven” synchronized with Tony flinging the door open, dramatizing their arrival and emphasizing his station in the discotheque. Even those who loath The Bee Gees must admit their contributions to soundtrack are perfectly suited for the film. It makes sense, and helps to fully articulate the characters and the world they inhabit.
The beautifully shot and choreographed dance sequences are juxtaposed with the very ordinary and problematic Brooklyn life of Tony and his friends. Whether day or night, the exteriors of NYC’s streets always seem dark. Inside the disco haven, the camera brings you in close to the club-goers as they navigate on and around the dance floor. Dance provides an escape, and these scenes are composed as fantasy; there is smoke billowing around their feet, ambient and colorful lighting from above and below, and Tony surrounded by adoring fans. It all has an elegant tribal quality to it — natives dancing for the gods around a fire.
At its core, the film is a classic story about ambition and desperation, wanting to escape your station in life and peruse something bigger, be something bigger. It’s the story of a working-class teenager who is faced with not really being seen for the rest of his life. The only place where he is special is on the dance floor. It’s no surprise that Sylvester Stallone directed and co-wrote the sequel, Staying Alive; Saturday Night Fever is essentially Rocky in snazzy clothes.
