Perfeição

This film was only recently brought to my attention, I've so far watched it five times. Why? Because I'm a writer who loves to study effective character work in effective screenplays. The fact that this film received a Razzie nomination for worst screenplay only serves to invalidate the Razzies for me rather than changing my opinion of this film.

The way some reviews even mention the fact that the film was a flop as though that validates their opinion that it was awful. So The Thing (1982) was awful then? Or Blade Runner the same year. There are many reasons for films to flop, marketing for instance, or how about the fact that it was competing with Rambo II, The Goonies, Brewster's Millions, hell even Beverly Hills Cop released six months earlier was still doing good business then.

The summer of 1985 was saturated with hits, and here they threw this little character driven narrative into that environment, I don't understand how they thought it could have been a hit frankly. Kids wouldn't get it, frankly adults who just wanted to see Jamie Lee Curtis in a leotard probably wouldn't get it.

It's a story about a reporter (Travolta) who, at the start of the film, has the gumption to use women to get a story; a man who had no conscience about that behaviour. Until that is he falls in love with a woman (Curtis) he is trying to use for a story. His love for her challenges his self perception and forces him to rethink his ways as he tries to save himself from a broken heart.

The film centres around a health club where he finds women obsessed with the pursuit of physical perfection (at least by their perception). Women who believe it is the only way they will ever be loved. Thematically it's quite tragic, and I was a little underwhelmed by the writer's lack of any real insight into that cultural problem but figured that was symptomatic of what was understood about mental health in the 1980s compared to today, so I forgive him that.

If you're not afraid of character driven narratives, like most people who only watch mainstream films, then you should find this film enjoyable. The pacing is a little slow and they linger for far too long on the aerobics sessions (although not if you're watching for pervy reasons) but if you can get past that and get behind the character's story then you should enjoy it.

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.

Really, "Perfect" is not the tactical warhead everyone seems to be implying. This is not on the same level as 80s catastrophes like "Megaforce", "Grease 2", "Howard the Duck", or (heaven help us) "Staying Alive". "Perfect" is nothing more than tragic misfire from extremely talented director James Bridges ("The Paper Chase", "Urban Cowboy") that makes the dire mistake of treating the aerobics, health club fad of the mid-80s as a serious cultural phenomenon (ugh).

It also helped to derail John Travolta's career for the better part of a decade - sad, because all one has to do is take a look at his outstanding performances in "Blow Out" and "Urban Cowboy" and realize that his acting in "Perfect" was just fine (if a bit low key). It's a shame, he could have made a lot of great movies while he was stuck in dreck like "The Experts" and strange late 80s Altman theatre pieces like Pinter's "The Dumb Waiter" (with Tom Conti!).

Travolta plays a Rolling Stone journalist hot on the trail of a big story about how health clubs are the new pick-up joints, replacing singles bars. He meets "The Pied Piper of aerobics teachers" Jamie Lee Curtis, a former Olymic swimmer who was once burned by a journalist over a piece about how she was having an affair with her coach. Of course, she and Travolta hook up and Travolta meets some other folks who frequent the gym, who are like supporting characters in a David Lynch movie (I'm unsure if the director intended to portray them as weird as they come off).

Real-life Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner shows up to essentially play himself (not very well) and, in the film's most laughable detail, Travolta writes a version of his story portraying health clubs as Emersonian watering holes of the future (or something like that).

It's all kind of bloated and weird, but really not that bad. Travolta's actually pretty good. Jamie Lee Curtis looks great but comes off as slightly grouchy, but she was probably directed that way.

Don't miss Travolta's notorious pelvic thrust sequence (you can't miss it).

OK, I know this is a bad, bad movie. It's not like I have any "diamond in the rough" illusions about this actually being a good movie that's merely misunderstood. So why is it that I watch it every time it's on? I honestly love watching this film!

Maybe it's the dated 80s setting and the "studly" guys that look utterly homosexual now. Perhaps it's the great lines, like Anne De Salvo looking directly into the camera and saying, "C'mon, guys, make me suffer," or Matthew Reed (in his one and only screen role) saying, "It was love at first sight. I took one look at those tits and my whole body got hard!" It could be John Travolta going through his aerobics routine with a sock in his jock, or Larraine Newman straddling the leg-spreader, proving that not every woman looks sexy in a leotard.

Of course there's Jamie Lee Curtis calling Travolta a "sphincter muscle" three different times. There's also Jann Wenner gyrating his fat gut during the closing credits. How about the pointless scene where hundreds of Boy George fans storm the hotel, or Curtis "deleting" Travolta's article by merely backspacing (What kind of word processor is that)? There's even the premise that Rolling Stone is a serious news magazine - HAW HAW HAW!

I seriously can't recommend paying money for this, but it's worth a watch if it comes on a local channel just for the sheer badness of it all. This is the definitive nadir of Travolta's career (check that...it is better than Battlefield Earth, but what isn't?) After this, even Look Who's Talking Now looks brilliant.

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.