Sobreviviendo

Watching "Staying Alive" will do that to you. A truly perplexing movie it raises all sorts of questions like "Why was this thing made?" and "Why would Travolta do this?" I guess those were pretty lean years for Barbarino, so we should cut him some slack. Now Sylvester Stallone, he should have known better.

"Staying Alive" is the sequel to the hit, and FAR superior movie, "Saturday Night Fever." This film is hardly a sequel people were crying out to see, and it doesn't surprise me in the least that it's a very obscure movie.

Travolta reprises his "Fever" role, as Tony Manero, the big-haired, tight-clothes, bad-accented dancer from Brooklyn. On his own and trying to make it as a dancer, he works his hardest to become a big star. Does he make it? Well you have to watch, and let me tell you it's a riveting ride.

Or not. "Alive" is a terribly funny movie, for all the wrong reasons. The play Tony ends up in is a particular highlight. Called "Satan's Alley," it's a man's descent into hell, full of laser lights, mist, and scantily clad women. This is the first Broadway movie I had heard of that was totally dancing, no singing, speaking, or character development. Kudos to the fact checker for the film, who had obviously seen a lot of Broadway shows. Even "Cats" was more coherent than that piece of crap.

But the real highlight is Travolta himself. As directed by Stallone, he bears more than a passing resemblance to Rambo in almost every scene of consequence. Every single time the guy dances in the movie one of two things happen. Either A) he gets really sweaty and greasy, or B) you get tons of shot of his disgusting package. Those dance pants are WAY too tight.

"Staying Alive" is a bizarre movie. You get the feeling Stallone and the rest of the crew thought they were making an incredible movie. It shows in every self-obsessed frame of this film; it takes itself way too seriously and ends up looking absolutely ridiculous. Recommended for fans of ridiculously poor movies.

The original writer of Saturday Night Fever Norman Wexler gets a co-writer credit for the sequel.

Staying Alive was directed and co-written by Sylvester Stallone. The story owes a debt to A Chorus Line. Some of the clunky dialogue and scenes are likely to be the fault of Stallone.

However Stallone also got John Travolta into shape. Here he looks like a dancer with rippling muscles.

The story has moved on six years. Tony Manero is trying to hit it big as a bit part player in Broadway. He gets a long list of rejections and struggles on with the support of his girlfriend.

An abrasive relationship with the star of a new Broadway show, Laura (Finola Hughes) has not gone unnoticed by its director. Tony might have a girlfriend but he hits on Laura if it might help his career.

Travolta presents an older Tony Manero but he is still immature, shallow and self centred. Manero has a rawness and streetwise that attracts the attention of the director of the new Broadway show.

The film is let down by a thin uninvolving plot and too many songs that just does not fit in with the film. Whereas those Bee Gees songs became classics in Saturday Night Fever, they just are forgettable here. I thought Vince DiCola's composition blended better.

The real low point was the opening night of the campy Broadway show 'Satan's Alley' that Manero gets a starring role opposite with Laura. Conceptually is should had been reworked, maybe something more disco themed.

Travolta understands Manero but the film felt too different from Saturday Night Fever. Staying Alive did well at the box office when it was released but it was critically lambasted. It was a big task for it to even equal the original's success which had entered public consciousness in a big way. Looking at the movie again it does fit in well with the MTV aesthetics of the 1980s but it lacks the grittiness.

Not good, but not as bad as it is made out to be.

Plot is thin, but the behind-the-scenes look at a Broadway dance show is interesting. Far too much time is spent on the actual show though, making you think that the whole movie may as well have been one big recording of a dance show.

Music is kind of cheesy, specially the music in the Broadway production.

Acting is so-so. Cynthia Rhodes gives probably the only convincing performance. John Travolta is his usual one-dimensional self and Finola Hughes is irritating.

Oh! So hokey! So bad! Tony Manero gets a job on the world's worst Broadway musical where two soap opera actresses catfight over his affections. Did I mention that all the music is by Frank Stallone? Of course this is because Sylvester Stallone directed, but Sly also keeps things in the family way by plopping Mama Jackie Stallone headbands on every friggin' chick in the film. The musical seems to involve a lot of dancers writhing about in "hell" (Drowning in dry ice, wearing Jackie headbands and listening to Frank, so there is at least a few scant shreds of reality fluttering here.), basting Tony in baby oil and tearing at his loincloth. This goes on non-stop for about the last 20 minutes, except for the moment when the director comes back waving his scarf at Tony and hollering "What is going on out there?" (Yeah, man, I was wondering too.) Still, if you're a fan of Travolta in his liberally greased and half-naked physical prime, you might derive a modicum of enjoyment from this. (I didn't. My mom did.) Great basket shot at the end, though.

I would give Staying Alive 1 star for actual goodness, and 10 stars for being in that rare category of movie that is so awful it's great. I will say that John Travolta is good dancer and his character is actually rather well portrayed here. But the film itself: ZOMG. The dance sequences are cheesy as hell. I have almost hurt myself from laughing so hard. It's like everyone in the movie lives in a world where cruise ship shows are considered the apex of entertainment. The script is a knock off of a knock off of a knock off of 42nd Street, with obvious rip-offs of All That Jazz. The choreographer character is straight out of the book of Hollywood clichés. The love triangle is as flimsy and transparent as used Saran wrap. The songs are all ridiculously over-earnest, especially the echo-laden 'Dance Close to the Fire' sequence. But I gotta say: watching this is pure joy. Pure 'oh my god I can't believe I'm watching this' guilty pleasure joy.