1977 was the year in which iconoclastic punk and hedonistic disco dominated the music scene. How ironic then that the final number one single in the U.S. of that year was Debbie Boone's "You light up my life". While I think that the punk movement has never been well documented in film fiction, the more popular and mainstream disco culture had several major films dedicated to it. The best of these was Saturday Night Fever (SNF).
The snag is that SNF was NOT a disco movie. Yes, it had dazzling dance sequences, yes, it had a pulsating soundtrack, and, yes, many of the scenes were shot in a disocteque, but I have always felt that the disco theme was peripheral to the real story; the alienation of youth and the acceptance and sanctuary they find in each other and their chosen surroundings. In fact, Nik Cohn's article on which the film was based (and which he later admitted was faked), "Tribal rites of the new Saturday night" would have been a more apposite title. John Travolta perfectly captures this. As Tony Manero he almost ritually prepares himself for his night out, preening himself in front of the mirror, donning his warrior's uniform, and then escaping the drudgery of his existence to his battleground, the local disco where he is the tribal chief.
Gritty, foulmouthed and somewhat downbeat, SNF starkly presented the darker underbelly of the disco subculture.
