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Tony Manero is back, and he can still move. Six years on from his night-clubbing debut, he is trying to establish himself as a Broadway dancer. He makes his way from bit parts to a starring role in a modern, new musical. He then sets about proving his talents, both on and off the stage while trying to decide whether to fall for his new leading lady or settle for the girl next door.
Sylvester Stallone, not only directed this, but he also co-wrote the poor screenplay. Both of these facts are clearly in evidence throughout a film which should definitely be avoided. Whereas its predecessor, "Saturday Night Fever" had a genuine exuberance and sincerity, this film constantly falls flat on its face. Brought forward into the early 80s (an era which does not have the same kitsch charm as the late 70s), with John Travolta returning as Manero; add some bad hair, tight pants, too much glitter, and you have a disaster looming.
Worth viewing only for the unintentional laughs, and also to spot Stallone's cameo, this is a painful movie experience. The dance sequences fall very short after the electrifying performances of the first film, as does the music. "Satan's Alley", Manero's new Broadway musical, is about a man's descent into hell, it would be nice to think it was tongue-in-cheek, but sadly the sensation is all too real. Both Travolta (his then career slump notwithstanding) and Stallone should have known better.
