14/10/2025
Saturday Night Fever (1977) is not the film you think it is. Some combination of nostalgia and cultural amnesia have replaced the film with memories of the Bee Gees’ soundtrack and the iconic image of Tony Manero (John Travolta), striking a pose on the disco dance floor as if a bolt of lighting made human. Yes, the film rejuvenated the waning disco sounds of the 1970s, but those iconic poses, those emotions, and those songs almost mask what is otherwise a masterpiece of 1970s American cinema.
Most will still agree that the disco dance sequences of Saturday Night Fever are transcendent. These moments are pure joy on film. Some might view the coming of age story set against a backdrop of an immigrant working class world as crass or even morally repugnant: misogyny and racism are as much the set dressing as disco balls. But these things serve a narrative purpose. This is not a film of heroes and good guys. Instead, for a film so rife with musical vibrancy and life these glittering diamonds (of musical set pieces) are set in a narrative world that is fundamentally corrupted and broken.
Everything in Tony’s world undermines his sense of self: his job, family, friend gang, relationships with women, his brother’s religion, and even the disco dance competition itself all reveal not only an identity in crisis but a complete subversion of ideas of “America.” In that way, the different subversions of institutions, private and public, is in keeping with the kind of critical cultural and political reassessments of the 1970s. Those characters are not immune from these broken systems, and are often the worse for it: chief among these is Annette (Donna Pescow), but also Stephanie (Karen Lynn Gorney), and Bobby C. (Barry Miller). Tony attempts to find a way through, or eventually out, but has to learn to first face his own worst instincts. And it’s those different character and societal flaws that reveal the cracks in that surface disco world and underscore the ways the film exists in the thrall of and far beyond that musical scene it documents. And with this duality, there is a measure of beauty even in its ugliness.