Saturday Night Fever

Synopsis

Stage musical of the film. Tony, a young Italian in Brooklyn exists solely to strut his stuff at the disco and impress the onlookers. But he falls for a girl, Gorney, who is very different and points the way to a fuller life. A show full of dance and song, highly reminiscent of its late-70's origin.

Our Review:

6 July 2004

Based on the hit 1970s film, the stage incarnation of Saturday Night Fever has returned to the West End after a regional tour. The main problem with this musical is it's not sure where its niche is. It partly wants to be one of the compilation musicals and emulate the success of Mamma Mia! or We Will Rock You - here of course the band represented is the Bee Gees - and there are hits aplenty. But Nan Knighton's stage adaptation is faithful to the film's plot and this becomes problematic because of it's dark undercurrent.

Set in the Brooklyn underground dance scene of the 1970s where racism and violence were rife, the young Tony Manero is trying to find his way. The Brooklyn bridge comes to represent his prison and also his possible escape, so it is impossible not to be moved when one of his friends poignantly commits suicide by jumping off it. But in this musical any drama, symbolism or depth are lost.

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Latest User Review

195.93.21.104) - 29 January 2006:

I'm exactly the right generation to be inspired by SNF, and judging by the high proportion of cardigans and anoraks in the auditorium, the Saturday Night audience at the Apollo Victoria were also looking for a nostalgia fix. But what should have been a camp "hommage" to the generation that invented Disco, was delivered as a student production. Management has downgraded the casting until even the principals seem just out of drama school (or, in one or two cases, failures from manufactured boy or girl bands), which leaves only the show as the star. And it isn't. Muddy diction and hefty reverb on the microphones means that the dialogue is all but lost, and the non-dancing "action" seems to consist of springing boyishly downstage and then running to the backdrop as though beating a retreat. Wise, in some cases. The leads - the nonentities playing Tony or Stephanie - are unlikeable and flat. Stephanie seemed to be wearing a wig made of white yak, and it was giving her trouble. She also looked about 35 under her hard makeup: and sang off-key almost all night. Tony had energy, but no technique, and no charisma: more Travis than Travolta. Of the ensemble, only Alex Jessop stands out: even restraining his personal performance to blend with the rest of the ensemble, he's clearly more talented than the rest of them put together and the only one onstage who has timing, or vocal shading, or an engaging stage personality. The unbalancing of the show by replacing cuddly and recognisable Shaun Williamson with a Jimi-Hendrix wasted-body drug-twitching Jimi Hendrix lookalike, as resident DJ in a club which is supposed to be racially prejudiced (they won't let the blacks or latins with the dance contests) indicates that all production values have been thrown in the bin, along with the rest of the performance which is visibly being downgraded for provincial touring. The Bee Gees should be spinning in their graves. Unfortunately, not all of them are dead yet. ;-)) ...

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