Having managed to avoid it for more than 20 years, I let my guard down, prepared to have my pop sensibilities bludgeoned, and meekly raised my hand when a review copy of Can’t Stop the Music landed on our editor’s desk. I am still wondering why.
There was a campaign launched many years ago claiming “Disco is Dead”, and thankfully it still lies rotting in the grave. But, in the late ’70s disco was very much alive and kicking. Discothèque patrons could be seen every night shaking their booty to Chic, Sister Sledge, Thelma Houston, Sylvester, The Ritchie Family and the kings (or should that be queens?) of them all, Village People (please note there is no ‘The” in the group’s name).
Assembled by openly gay and flamboyant Frenchman Jacques Morales, Village People were originally a face for his music (Milli Vanilli anyone?). The difference was that these guys actually sang and danced, but that’s about all Morales’ puppets were permitted to do. Morales had released a number of tracks to the gay clubs in New York and they were dance floor-fillers. Assembling Village People was a necessity. He needed an image to fit his sound.
Most of the group were ‘discovered’ working and/or dancing in the gay bars of New York and, almost unbelievably, the first few were already dressing in the outfits that would soon make them a disco phenomenon. When the whole thing finally came together, the group consisted of five members, each taking on a character that might be found in a village, Greenwich Village, New York to be precise, popular with the city’s gay community.
It was no coincidence that the five characters, the Indian, cowboy, policeman, construction worker, leather man, and military man are all popular homoerotic fantasies. Neither is it coincidence that they were all buff and half-naked most of the time, shot videos full of men in gymnasiums in varying states of undress and sported moustaches so humungous you could sweep the floor with them. And check out their song titles, all were massive club and/or chart hits, Y.M.C.A., Macho Man, In the Navy, Go West, and Fire Island. The not-so-subtle gay themes and references stand out like dog’s bollocks on a hot day. How most of the world, and the censors for that matter, failed to pick up on the overt campness is beyond me. The coloured handkerchiefs sticking out of back pockets and keys had nothing to do with fashion, you know!
Convinced that there really is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the group and those pulling the strings hit upon the idea to make a feature film. It is painfully obvious that this film was written around Village People and the songs that would form the soundtrack. Alan Carr, a record producer with more dollars than sense, co-wrote and financed the film, and the end result was a mish-mash of crap dialogue, dreadful acting, awful and pathetic gags, dreadful songs and a storyline that is utterly irrelevant.
The film went down badly with movie audiences, except in Australia where it hit number one and, to this day, Village People can regularly be found cruising the country performing the same hits that people can’t seem to get enough of.
For what it’s worth, the main character, Jack Morel (Steve Guttenberg), is a songwriter that quits his sales job at the first sniff of a chance to get his songs heard at a local nightclub. Much like the real creator, the film follows his progress in getting the group together, recording the songs, and achieving fame and success, and that’s basically all there is. The extra characters are also irrelevant, and the film is loosely linked with rehearsed song and dance numbers. The movie features numerous new songs such as Milk Shake and the title song, and they even throw in Y.M.C.A. in video clip style filmed in a gym with dozens of undressed and half-dressed athletic men (all trim, neat and able to dance) bopping around and cavorting all the while exchanging knowing winks and glances. The rest of the film may have been ‘straightened up”, but not this sequence.
The film culminates in an all cast routine in front of a frenzied and screaming San Francisco club crowd that know high camp when they see it.
The film has dated badly and the biggest giveaway, apart from the disco songs, is the fashion and hairstyles - they look utterly hideous! That hasn’t deterred Village People from soldiering on, in fcat at the time of writing they are in Australia on another tour. There are even one or two original members still involved, though most have either left or died, including their creator. Whatever many of us think, there are still more than enough fans left out there to ensure the gigs are a financial success. I am sure the Village People never guessed they could still pull a crowd 25 years later.
Fearing the worst, I can say I was more than a little surprised at how good this transfer scrubs up. Sure, it ain’t reference quality, but no one could complain when a film this old looks this good. It is presented in an aspect ratio of 2.35:1, is 16:9 enhanced and delivers a very solid and sharp image even by today’s standards, without that 70’s/80’s soft look that many films from this era have.
Colours have also aged well, and there are no problems with noise or bleeding which is a big surprise. There is a lot of colour in most scenes, especially those in the club, and it's strong and bold. Black levels are very good with no evidence of noise or fading.
This is a very clean print with no noticeable marks or specks and this is almost remarkable. Shadow detail is generally very good, and there is very little shimmer bar one occurrence on some latticed doors.
The layer change is placed between scenes at 66:10 and is reasonably smooth.