Three Italian-American brothers, living in the slums of 1940's New York City, try to help each other with one's wrestling career using one brother's promotional skills and another brother's con-artist tactics to thwart a sleazy manager.
In this sequel to Saturday Night Fever, former disco king Tony Manero has left Brooklyn and lives in Manhattan. He stays in a cheap hotel and works as a dance instructor and as a dance-club waiter, trying to succeed as a professional Broadway dancer. Breaking away from his Brooklyn life, family, and friends has matured Tony and refined his personality, represented by his diminished accent and his avoidance of alcohol and profanity. But certain attitudes have not changed, as with his most-recent girlfriend, who sings in a local rock band.Written by
Mark J. Popp <email@example.com>
Watching "Staying Alive" will do that to you. A truly perplexing movie it raises all sorts of questions like "Why was this thing made?" and "Why would Travolta do this?" I guess those were pretty lean years for Barbarino, so we should cut him some slack. Now Sylvester Stallone, he should have known better.
"Staying Alive" is the sequel to the hit, and FAR superior movie, "Saturday Night Fever." This film is hardly a sequel people were crying out to see, and it doesn't surprise me in the least that it's a very obscure movie.
Travolta reprises his "Fever" role, as Tony Manero, the big-haired, tight-clothes, bad-accented dancer from Brooklyn. On his own and trying to make it as a dancer, he works his hardest to become a big star. Does he make it? Well you have to watch, and let me tell you it's a riveting ride.
Or not. "Alive" is a terribly funny movie, for all the wrong reasons. The play Tony ends up in is a particular highlight. Called "Satan's Alley," it's a man's descent into hell, full of laser lights, mist, and scantily clad women. This is the first Broadway movie I had heard of that was totally dancing, no singing, speaking, or character development. Kudos to the fact checker for the film, who had obviously seen a lot of Broadway shows. Even "Cats" was more coherent than that piece of crap.
But the real highlight is Travolta himself. As directed by Stallone, he bears more than a passing resemblance to Rambo in almost every scene of consequence. Every single time the guy dances in the movie one of two things happen. Either A) he gets really sweaty and greasy, or B) you get tons of shot of his disgusting package. Those dance pants are WAY too tight.
"Staying Alive" is a bizarre movie. You get the feeling Stallone and the rest of the crew thought they were making an incredible movie. It shows in every self-obsessed frame of this film; it takes itself way too seriously and ends up looking absolutely ridiculous. Recommended for fans of ridiculously poor movies.
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