54 (1998)
Director: Mark Christopher Cast: Ryan Phillippe, Mike Myers, Neve Campbell, Salma Hayek, Brecklin Meyer Screenplay: Mark Christopher Producers: Ira Deutchman, Richard N. Gladstein, Dolly Hall Runtime: 95 min. US Distribution: Miramax Rated R: language, sex, drug use
By Nathaniel R. Atcheson (nate@pyramid.net)
54 is dull, perfunctory, uninspired, and boring. A greater writer might have created a lyrical sentence for each of those adjectives, flowing in lovely arangements with soaring metaphors. I, however, would rather cut to the chase. 54 is dull, perfunctory, uninspired, and boring. There is nothing in it -- not a glimpse of depth, nor a shimmer of intelligence or insight. There is no electricity in any of the scenes, or a moment of interest in the story or its subplots. And it's underdeveloped, and features an array of bland characters played by actors who think they're in this year's Boogie Nights. They are so wrong. The picture has been assembled by Mark Christopher. Based on this film, I don't know how he got a job in the business.
54 is supposed to be an amazing insight into the world of the dance club of the same name, which originated in the 70s and closed down in the 80s. I don't know if this film went into production after Boogie Nights was released, but Christopher has managed to plagiarize Paul Thomas Anderson's brilliant work in every possible way, from the framework of the plot down to the style of the cinematography. What it lacks is everything that made Boogie Nights great: depth, intelligence, energy, fascinating characters, and challenging themes. 54 can't even measure up to The Last Days of Disco, which is flawed, but still smart and entertaining. It's remarkably bad timing, I'd say, to release a film this tedious after a couple of noteworthy pictures of the same kind.
I have exaggerated, though: there is one interesting character, and one terrific performance. That character is Steve Rubell, played with more perceptiveness by Mike Myers than this limp production deserves. Steve Rubell is the owner of Studio 54, and if Christopher had focused on him, then Myers could have forced a good film out of this wreck all by himself. Alas, we are instead guided to endure the trials of a young man named Shane (Ryan Phillippe), a going-nowhere New Jersey teen who gets a job in the club, thanks to Rubell's homosexual impulses. It's here that he meets his friends, the array of uninteresting characters: his co-worker, Greg (Brecklin Meyer), his wife, Anita (Salma Hayek), and, of course, the love interest, Julie Black (Neve Campbell).
Shane is just an innocent young fool in the beginning, and he has a reasonably sturdy home life. (Some of the scenes with his father border on interesting, while Heather Matarazzo, who plays his sister, pushes Phillippe off the screen.) But he decides to envelop himself in the disco scene, and succumb to peer pressure and to drugs. Why his "friends" push him into drugs is never really explained, but the fact that they are "friends" is questioned only is superficial ways (Greg gets really mad at Shane because he's been elevated to bartender status). There isn't a single conflict that takes center stage, except that Shane has some kind of unexplored reservation with the business in which he works.
Most of the film is dumb, and most of the dialogue is inane. There's a scene late in the film in which Shane confronts Julie Black, and, in the next scene, they're arm-in-arm without a bit of development. Then, they're kissing in a bowling alley! This is five minutes of material, thrown into the picture at the last minute (well past the one-hour mark, and this isn't a long film to begin with). Campbell is a talented actress, but she needs a role that gives her a little depth. This one doesn't. And Phillippe has almost no presence whatsoever; this performance pales in comparison to Mark Whalberg's star-making role in Boogie Nights. He seems dumb and misguided, and his voice never changes tone. I guess he was picked for the color of his hair and the shape of his body, but he seems pretty lanky to me. He's all wrong for a lead role, but it doesn't help that Christopher has forgotten to develop his characters. By the end of 54, Shane's most notable trait is his stupid, fake accent.
The rest of the performances are wasted. Hayek is an energetic, talented young actress, and does almost nothing here. Meyer is endearing, but allowed to be no deeper than cardboard. Only Myers, by sheer force of talent, manages to rise above Christopher's wading-pool of a script. Rubell has been written just as depthless as the rest of the characters, but Myers is good enough to inject subtleties that help round out the performance. In fact, Myers is the sole reason to see 54, and all it really does is make you wish that the film had revolved around him.
I've read that Studio 54 has been recreated down to the last detail. Frankly, I don't care. It's easy to recreate something technical like this. A fairly skilled production designer and a few carpenters can manage such a task. Besides, Christopher keeps the lights so low that the sets are invisible, anyway. Aside from Myers' performance, 54 is a complete failure. It's dull, perfunctory, uninspired, and boring. Some may find my comparisons to Boogie Nights unfair, but they're so obvious to me. In any event, 54 is pallid without the contrast. It doesn't even work as mindless entertainment: it's so shallow that the most escapist viewers are likely to dismiss it. So, don't forget those key words: dull, perfunctory, uninspired, and boring. Everything else I said was just padding.
*1/2 out of **** (3/10, D)
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Nathaniel R. Atcheson
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