परफेक्ट

A legendary flop and a legendarily bad movie, this mess is part three in a career-killing trilogy of Travolta's that also includes "Staying Alive" and "Two of a Kind". It took him a long time to bounce back. It also stalled Curtis's career for a while until "A Fish Called Wanda" rescued her. The story, such as it is, concerns Travolta, a Rolling Stone magazine reporter, looking for a story angle within a huge gymnasium at the height of the aerobics and fitness craze. He's already working on another more important story, but wants this as a back-up in case an all-important interview falls through. He zeroes in on high-profile aerobics instructor Curtis who has a huge following (which often kisses her on the mouth following one of her workouts!) Unfortunately, she's had a major disaster with a reporter in the past and resists being interviewed for his story. In order for there to be a movie, he must wear her down and get her assistance even though there are 90 other instructors at this mega-gym. The film is very unfocused and disjointed throughout. It tries to be too many things: a reflection of investigative journalism, an ethics drama, an examination of self-esteem issues, a music video crash-course in Jazzercise and, most obviously, a jiggle movie with emphasis on lycra-clad spread legs and tight behinds. The script is so crass and stupid with ludicrous lines like, "You're a sphincter muscle..." (this one is repeated often!) and unnecessary subplots which lead nowhere. Travolta is awful. He speaks his lines with his mouth almost open, stares blankly with no skill at conveying what's on his mind and, in the films most celebratedly horrendous scene, gyrates his bulging crotch at the camera ad nauseam while sweat trickles down his pale, clammy face and body. Curtis looks very fresh and attractive most of the film (if a bit sexually ambiguous) eschewing the huge hair and heavy make-up of the times. Her character is a little too self-righteous, but her acting is better than anyone else around. Wenner, a non-actor, provides a jarring presence whenever he appears because he (along with several other "real" people cast in the film) hasn't got the polish to really sell his role even though it reflects his position in real life (as the founder of Rolling Stone!) Most of the other actors in the film either overact horrendously or flat-line. More importantly, the audience does not care about anyone in the film and so does not care when various events and revelations come about. There is some inherent camp value in revisiting the hilarious workout clothes of the 80's and in hearing the bouncy, tacky music of the era, but the movie is way too long for it's subject matter and the music montages wear out their welcome very quickly. And for all the sweating and gyration, there are no sex scenes in the film. Look out for pansexual Burt Reynolds look-alike (and alleged Travolta bed partner) Barresi in the cast as a gym rat eager to show off his body.

Watching him and Jamie Lee Curtis "workout" was quite entertaining. Aerobics really was the soft core porn of the 80s and there's a lot of it in the movie. They even threw in a Chippendales performance for good measure. The film itself is alright, acting isn't bad and the storyline is ok but the ending is rather cliche and predictable. The soundtrack might be the best part. Fun to watch for nostalgia and the Carly Simon cameo but other than that I don't think there's a lot here really.

PERFECT reminds you of precisely what you wanted to forget about the mid-80s, including the movie, itself. That's why so many are uncomfortable with it, myself included.

Yes, Jamie Lee looks lovely (though she'd go on to look much better -- and much healthier -- in subsequent films), and it's fun to grin along with Travolta and the Tent in His Shorts in that entirely-too-long "hot aerobics moves" sequence.. But PERFECT is useful for one thing and one thing only, being an send up of East coast pretentiousness and presumptions about the "Los Angeles"/airhead image. Oh yes, and it's probably the only film on earth to mention the ABSCAM scandal of 1980. Give it two stars for that, alone.

There's a not-so-subtle gay undercurrent running through PERFECT be it the impromptu Boy George Fandom conference at the hotel, the pretty blonde fruits prancing around Sport Connection and incredulous "Chippendale (i.e. homosexual) boyfriend" of the aggressively heterosexual Sally; or the purposely genderless introduction of Jessie's "swim coach" rumor. Be honest: you wait with bated breath until the movie provides you with the sigh of relief that the swim coach was indeed male. It could have been worse: all that memory trauma could have been over an allegation of...lecherous PE teacher LESBIANISM...(gasp, the horror!)

Before you tell me I'm imposing today's standards on yesterday's film, consider that these were pertinent issues, particularly for gays and gays-to-be, even (perhaps even "especially") in 1985.

But I found myself actually agreeing with the central message of the film, as articulated by that hokey Travolta analogy on pop culture and individual dreams.

Diagnosis: if PERFECT is any indicator, the "California"/LA image is the fantastic, mass-marketed product of the very people claiming to critique it from such an "objective" distance. Whatever it's funny-ha-ha flaws, anyone over age 35 is acutely aware that we're really only laughing at ourselves, our active denial of blatant, obvious 1980s in your fact homosexuality; our long-spent cans of sparkly rouge, styling mousse, and L'Oreal; synth bass and gated snare dance lines, the wrong-then-and-wrong-now spandex, and pushbutton on-screen/zero-chemistry heterosexual promiscuity.

PERFECT is the warped mirror back in our face. That is precisely WHY it was such a monumental failure at the BO. Two stars for that part, too.

SPOILER: "The Hitcher" (young C. Thomas Howell) and "Risky Business" came out, Wes Craven was doing his "Nightmare on Elm Street" series...so what did we young people have for drama? This.

If you need a laugh now, you may want to tune in. While Jamie Lee Curtis tries to elevate this, it is simply not elevate-able.

Laraine Newman and Marilu Henner are gym groupies with no self-esteem, (Marilu gets the Chippendale man though, so it's all good). John Travolta as a semi-literate writer at "Rolling Stone". (We know he is good, because in the end he goes to jail for protecting a source). There are some scenes with Jann Wenner and Lauren Hutton, apparently the then in-crowd, at a party.

The really sad part about this is that there really were people like this; the gym was a sense of self-esteem;(along with anorexia). Aerobics class became the next singles hang-out as the song "Masquerade" blares out, while everyone obsesses over plastic surgery and the perfect body (The Laraine Newman character is particularly pathetic).

We see the superficiality. Has anything changed? Indeed, they could remake this with Jessica Simpson as the lead. Someone get on the phone to CAA!.

Adam Lawrence (John Travolta) is a relentless, cynical Rolling Stone reporter from New York. He is in Los Angeles to track down an elusive interview. He has a second idea to write about fitness clubs as the new singles bars. He tries to interview instructor Jessie Wilson (Jamie Lee Curtis) known as the "aerobics pied piper" at The Sport Connection. She refuses due to a previous reporter who wrote that she had an affair with her swim coach. He interviews customers like Sally (Marilu Henner) and Linda (Laraine Newman) who is described by another as "the most used piece of equipment in the gym". He is being pressured to testify about his other interview and hand over his notes. When Adam hands in a sincere story about health clubs, the editor rewrites it as a take down piece digging up the old story about Jessie.

This movie is hopelessly dated. It was probably dated and cheesy even at the time of its release. The aerobics scenes are too extended. They feel like cheesy music videos. I actually don't mind the story. Travolta and Curtis are fine actors. The movie is sincere in the writing. However, it can never truly escape the cheese factor.