This 1980 disaster safely holds the title of "one of the worst movies ever made." Jack (Steve Guttenberg, kicking off his 1980's career cringefest with a bang) is a struggling composer/dweeb who lives with recently retired supermodel Sam (Valerie Perrine, who tries way too hard considering the material she was given). Sam is dating uptight tax attorney Ron (Caitlyn Jenner as Bruce Jenner), who is consistently shocked at his girlfriend's behavior. Sam is being pursued by her modelling agency head Sydne (Tammy Grimes) to return to the catwalk, and she also uses her relationship with former boyfriend Steve (Paul Sand, who comes out of this better than anyone), who owns a record company, to foist Jack's "sound of the '80's" disco music on an unsuspecting public. Sam's BFF/Sydne's assistant, Lulu (Marilyn Sokol) is along for the ride, trying to do too many things at once behind the scenes- like choreography, and bedding anything male in the area. I know what you're thinking: isn't this movie a psuedo-biography about the founding of the Village People, who had three huge hits in the late '70's? Yup, but the band members take a supporting role in their own flick. Some of the guys are given character names, but some aren't, and their limited acting skills come through in a big way. Even the final credits only list them by their "roles" when singing as a group: Policeman (Ray Simpson), Construction Worker (David Hodo), Indian (Felipe Rose), Cowboy (Randy Jones), Leatherman (Glenn Hughes), and G. I. (Alex Briley). The six represented fantasy roles in some homosexual circles, and it's both fascinating and embarrassing to watch straight women in the film fall over themselves trying to bed the men.
This was actress Nancy Walker's only theatrical film, thank god. She had directed a few sitcom episodes, but I don't know what possessed anyone to give her a twenty million dollar disco musical to helm. The opening scenes, with Guttenberg rocking out to his own music while rollerskating, is a mess. Guttenberg doesn't play a musician well, and can't dance to his own music, so every time he lets the rhythm get him, you'll want to die. Producer Allan Carr cowrote the script with Bronte Woodard- who penned the "Grease" screenplay, and died too early at 39. I use the term "script" lightly, since I cannot believe any of the lines spoken were ever written down, much less thought out. The screenplay is awful, and with Jenner's life change, hearing that character talk about their dual personality is ironic. Guttenberg is awful, Sand is okay, Perrine is bland, Sokol is sleazy and kind of pathetic, Grimes is sad to watch, but what about Jenner? They had been considered for the role of Superman a couple of years earlier, and I could see that. They're only direction here seems to be "wince, huff a lot, and bug your eyes out." In the right director's hands, they might have been able to make a go of a cinematic career. Instead, they debuted in an infamous flop and never recovered until reality television came along.
Sure, "Xanadu" and "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" also came out around the same time, and all three films succeeded in killing the movie musical for a few years. I argue that "Xanadu" and "Sgt. Pepper's..." were slightly better, not by much, because their songs- thanks to Jeff Lynne, and the Beatles, respectively- were better. Here, the Village People perform one hit, "YMCA," in the most bizarre musical number ever, and a bunch of songs no one listened to- including "Liberation," as gay a gay anthem as has ever been sung. I was speechless and close to tears while viewing this on a streaming service, when suddenly the movie stopped and an error message appeared on the screen. I thought, "wow, this is so bad it broke the internet." I had to call and have my modem rebooted automatically, and didn't continue watching until the next day. I sat down again, and figured I had to be half way through this monstrosity, which runs an astounding 123 minutes, only to discover I was twenty-two minutes in. You "Can't Stop The Music," but you can shut off the television.
This was actress Nancy Walker's only theatrical film, thank god. She had directed a few sitcom episodes, but I don't know what possessed anyone to give her a twenty million dollar disco musical to helm. The opening scenes, with Guttenberg rocking out to his own music while rollerskating, is a mess. Guttenberg doesn't play a musician well, and can't dance to his own music, so every time he lets the rhythm get him, you'll want to die. Producer Allan Carr cowrote the script with Bronte Woodard- who penned the "Grease" screenplay, and died too early at 39. I use the term "script" lightly, since I cannot believe any of the lines spoken were ever written down, much less thought out. The screenplay is awful, and with Jenner's life change, hearing that character talk about their dual personality is ironic. Guttenberg is awful, Sand is okay, Perrine is bland, Sokol is sleazy and kind of pathetic, Grimes is sad to watch, but what about Jenner? They had been considered for the role of Superman a couple of years earlier, and I could see that. They're only direction here seems to be "wince, huff a lot, and bug your eyes out." In the right director's hands, they might have been able to make a go of a cinematic career. Instead, they debuted in an infamous flop and never recovered until reality television came along.
Sure, "Xanadu" and "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" also came out around the same time, and all three films succeeded in killing the movie musical for a few years. I argue that "Xanadu" and "Sgt. Pepper's..." were slightly better, not by much, because their songs- thanks to Jeff Lynne, and the Beatles, respectively- were better. Here, the Village People perform one hit, "YMCA," in the most bizarre musical number ever, and a bunch of songs no one listened to- including "Liberation," as gay a gay anthem as has ever been sung. I was speechless and close to tears while viewing this on a streaming service, when suddenly the movie stopped and an error message appeared on the screen. I thought, "wow, this is so bad it broke the internet." I had to call and have my modem rebooted automatically, and didn't continue watching until the next day. I sat down again, and figured I had to be half way through this monstrosity, which runs an astounding 123 minutes, only to discover I was twenty-two minutes in. You "Can't Stop The Music," but you can shut off the television.