54 (1998) Ryan Phillippe's abs, Salma Hayek, Breckin Meyer, Mike Myers, Neve Campbell, Sela Ward, Heather Matarazzo, Ellen Albertini Dow. Written and directed by Mark Christopher. 91 minutes. Rated R, 1.5 stars (out of five stars)
Review by Ed Johnson-Ott, NUVO Newsweekly www.nuvo-online.com/film/ Archive reviews at http://us.imdb.com/M/reviews_by?Edward+Johnson-ott To receive reviews by e-mail at no charge, send subscription requests to pbbp24a@prodigy.com
The barkers at old-time carnival freak shows lured customers in by promising they would witness spectacles like "The Incredible Two-Headed Dog" or "The World's Tiniest Man." After the suckers plucked their money down, they were led behind dingy curtains only to encounter a bored dwarf and a mummified puppy with a "second head" clumsily grafted on. "54" is the cinematic equivalent of one of those phony carny shows. After promising a festival of bare bodies, wild sex and debauchery set in the epicenter of late 70s - early 80s hedonism, they instead deliver a tepid morality tale that plays like a half-baked rip-off of "Saturday Night Fever."
It wasn't always this way. In an recent issue of "Interview," "54" star Ryan Phillippe described the film as an edgy work showing, among other things, a pivotal character free-basing onscreen. He spoke of kissing his buddy and co-star Breckin Meyer in one scene. Phillippe said "Who's going to deny that at Studio 54 in 1979 there were a lot of people going both ways, guys who'd make out with a boy upstairs and then head down to be with a girl? That was real; it happened. Why should I be afraid of evoking reality?"
Apparently all that evoked reality scared the bejesus out of the executives at Miramax, because the free-basing is gone, along with Phillippe and Meyer's kiss and virtually all of the gay and bi-sexual scenes (one anonymous male/male smooch remains, immediately followed by a reassuring glimpse of a hetero couple screwing with their clothes on). Hell, there's hardly even any straight sex scenes left in the film, for that matter. In their zeal to avoid making mainstream audiences feel squirmy, Miramax cut the hedonism out of a movie about hedonism. What in the world were these people thinking? Did they actually believe we wanted to see Studio 54 presented as a bowdlerized "Afterschool Special?"
So what's left? "Saturday Night Fever Jr." Phillippe plays Shane O'Shea, a lower-class Jersey kid who leaves his blue-collar neighborhood for the glitz, glitter and excess of Steve Rubell's Studio 54. After baring his torso for the smarmy Rubell, Phillippe gets hired as a busboy, making friends with barback Greg (Breckin Meyer) and his wife Anita (Salma Hayek), a coat-check girl with disco diva aspirations. Shane soon lands a coveted job as a 54 bartender, a position ensuring instant fame in Rubell's world of flesh and flash. The young buck sets his sights on soap- opera actress Julie (Neve Campbell), even as his increasing drug use begins to numb his feeble little brain. Meanwhile, Rubell rolls in money (literally), taunts the IRS on television and swallows every pill in sight. You can figure out the rest of the story on your own.
Mike Myers gives a broad, but diverting performance as geeky dictator Rubell, playing him like a male version of his "it's like buttah" character from "Saturday Night Live." Rubell's notion of mixing celebrities and civilians in a glamorous exclusive neverland of debauchery was inspired, and watching this nebbish Napoleon rule his kingdom is fascinating, but Rubell serves only as a supporting player while the focus remains on the utterly vapid Shane O'Shea.
As Shane, Ryan Phillippe is very, very bland. One female admirer describes him as having "the body of Michelangelo's "David" attached to a Botticelli face." This woman clearly needs to get out to art museums more often. Phillippe is a slight, somber introvert and, try as he might, he is never believable as a stud here. Breckin Meyer displays far more charisma as the frustrated barback deemed too short to be a bartender (oddly, Meyer is only a bit shorter than Phillippe, who is not a tall man either). Salma Hayek is adequate as a would-be singer, while the cadaverous Neve Campbell barely makes any impression at all.
Memo to Miramax. Having Ryan Phillippe describe the wild life at Studio 54 in voice-overs doesn't cut the mustard. We want to see it. If you're going to finance a movie like this, give the final cut to the director and have the balls to stand behind him. Memo to everyone else. If you want to see an edgy film about sex, drugs and excess, rent "Boogie Nights. " If you want a gritty, well-acted portrait of the disco era, rent "Saturday Night Fever." But whatever you do, don't waste your money on the superficial, cowardly "54."
© 1998 Ed Johnson-Ott
The review above was posted to the
rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup (de.rec.film.kritiken for German reviews).
The Internet Movie Database accepts no responsibility for the contents of the
review and has no editorial control. Unless stated otherwise, the copyright
belongs to the author.
Please direct comments/criticisms of the review to relevant newsgroups.
Broken URLs inthe reviews are the responsibility of the author.
The formatting of the review is likely to differ from the original due
to ASCII to HTML conversion.
Related links: index of all rec.arts.movies.reviews reviews