54 (1998) 1 star out of 4
The people who populate the movie 54 are shallow, self-absorbed and self-indulgent. In other words, they perfectly mirror the era as well as the movie this feature depicts.
54 is the story of that well-publicized New York disco, Studio 54, the in-place in the '70s where anybody who was anybody went to be ogled, photographed and pampered.
The difficulty with 54, which was written and directed by Mark Christopher, is that his script takes no point of view. Christopher neither condemns nor glorifies the legendary excesses that were Studio 54's hallmark.
He keeps an uninvolved distance, thus keeping us from forming any emotional attachment with any of the protagonists.
The movie's one main asset is the surprising performance by Mike Myers as Steve Rubell, the famous owner of the nightspot. He is part rebel, part dreamer, part shrewd entrepreneur. He's smart enough and childlike enough to pander to the dreams and desires of his clientele, yet stupid enough to brag on TV about hiding profits from the IRS.
Myers, in his first straight character part, is in turn appealing and appalling. At one moment he can try to pressure a male employee into a sexual situation, then at the next moment apologize for his bad behavior and offer the young man a handful of cash.
The story is told by Shane O'Shea (Ryan Phillippe), a New Jersey lad who dreams of crossing the river to the Big Apple. Shades of John Travolta's Brooklyn-bound Tony in Saturday Night Fever.
Eventually, Shane does come to New York, attracts Rubell's eye and is admitted to the promised land. His looks get him a job as a busboy, and he is later promoted to the prestigious position of bartender, where he mixes with and makes drinks for the rich and famous.
Shane's dream is to meet soap star Julie Black (Neve Campbell), a fellow Garden Stater. But both characters are so sketchily drawn that even when they do hook up, it's no big deal. The chemistry between Shane and Julie is nonexistent.
54 is a very cold, uninvolving movie. It's all strobe lights and glitz, all substance. It's sort of like the musical era it covers.
Bob Bloom is the film critic at the Journal and Courier in Lafayette, Ind. He can be reached by e-mail at bloom@journal-courier.com or at cbloom@iquest.net
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