# 54 (1998)

### reviewed by
Michael Redman

    Was Studio 54 really that dull?

    54
    A Film Review By Michael Redman
    Copyright 1998 By Michael Redman

    ** (out of ****)

There are some people who, no matter how good a time they're having, no matter how great a place they're at, are convinced that somewhere, someone is having more fun than they are. There must be a better party elsewhere and they're going to find it. Obviously it's an endless quest.

In the late seventies Studio 54 was that better party for the world. Whatever was going on there must be the ultimate revelry. All the glitteratti were there and it was all so decedent.

Nineteen-year-old Jersey boy Shane O'Shea (Ryan Phillippe) is hanging out with his dull friends at the same old dull discos and desperately wants to see the bright lights. He convinces his buddies to drive across the river in hopes of catching a glimpse of his fantasy girl, soap actress Julie Black (Neve Campbell).

Star-watching in front of the club, Shane impresses owner Steve Rubell (Mike Myers) with his angelic looks and is allowed access to the zone forbidden to mere mortals. Figuratively and literally leaving his friends behind, he enters nirvana.

Our ambitious, but non-too-bright hero is willing to do anything to get ahead. With the help of his new pals, buser Greg (Brecklin Meyer) and his wife coat-check girl Anita (Salma Hayek), Shane soon rises to the sought-after position of bartender. Christened "Shane 54", he has all the drugs and women he can abuse.

Let me get my prejudices out of the way up front. Disco barely qualifies as music and the late seventies were an ugly time. Fashions, culture, the mood of the nation: ugly, ugly, ugly. With that in mind, here's my opinion of the movie:

    Ugly.

Did the shirtless busboys really look that bad in their short shorts? Beneath the glitz, was it all that lifeless?

Although the club is filled with Andy Warhol, fifteen-minute celebrities, flashing lights, pounding music, sex and drugs on the dance floor, sex and drugs on the balcony and sex and drugs in the basement, it's fairly boring.

Somehow I had the feeling that Studio 54 was more exciting. This film makes decadence look downright listless. Like many people, they're doing the same thing every night and not really enjoying it very much.

The club is the place to be seen and everyone is working the crowd or trying to. Anita wants to be a singer and is willing to sleep with whoever she has to. Julie wants better roles and is willing to sleep with whoever she has to. You get the idea.

With one exception, the actors are disappointing. Phillippe certainly looks the role of the fallen cherub, but "confused" is the only passion that he can summon. The women are beautiful, but, as in the real world, that only goes so far. Some personality would be nice.

People are introduced, almost become interesting and then disappear. Sela Ward is a record executive with a fondness for nose candy and younger men and the potential for characterization, but where does she go? Ellen Dow plays an elderly disco grandma who might be a human being, but turns into a cliche.

The exception is Myers' Rubell. Known for "Wayne's World" and "Austin Powers", this role is a change of pace for the comedian. The ultimate host of the party that never ended, Rubell is pathetic. Wallowing on a bed filled with cash, he is propositioning a young busboy but has to pause for a moment to vomit on the money. He's the rich guy with lots of friends because he has cool stuff, but no one really wants to spend much time with him. Myers does a grand job with the character. As unpleasant as he is, the movie only comes to life when he is onscreen.

You feel sorry for Rubell. He wants so much to be liked. Pity and embarrassment are the primary emotions that nearly every character inspires. Poor Shane. He doesn't fit with the "in" crowd. Poor Shane. Now he does fit in.

The plot is a thinly-disguised old one. Small-town boy goes to the big city, is seduced by the glitter but finds out that the old values are the true ones. According to this film, Blake was wrong. The road of excess doesn't lead to the palace of wisdom, it goes nowhere. Surprise, surprise, the folks were right. Sex and drugs are bad things. Come home Shane.

Like a disco, the film is fascinating and looks great for the first half hour. Then nothing happens. As the third and lessor seventies movie after "Boogie Nights" and "The Last Days Of Disco", "54" may be the one to finally put that decade to rest. Hopefully the movie-going public is discoed-out.

If everyone wanted to be at Studio 54, I wonder where the people who were there wanted to be. Surely there was a better party somewhere else.

Michael Redman has written this column for over 23 years and doesn't have the time to think about why disco died. He's trying to figure out where the summer of 1998 went. Email your theories to Redman@indepen.com.

[This appeared in the 9/03/98 "Bloomington Independent", Bloomington, Indiana. Michael Redman can be contacted at Redman@indepen.com]

-- mailto:redman@indepen.com This week's film review at http://www.indepen.com/ Film reviews archive at http://us.imdb.com/M/reviews_by?Michael%20Redman

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