54 was a film that no one really seemed to enjoy. It moved me quite a bit, though. The film was about the New York City disco club "Studio 54", however, instead of being a clinical bio-pic, it focused on some of the people who worked at the club and the people who frequented it. We were treated to a talented cast of actors (with the exception of Neve Campbell, who was at her absolute worst. I like her, but she had no charisma in this movie) playing a bunch of lost souls trying to fill the immense voids in their lives with drugs and constant partying. The nexus of 54 is Mike Myers’ surprising performance as the owner of the establishment. He was a man who hosted the party, but never truly belonged. This tragic flaw in his character story is human drama at it’s best.
What covers for some of the flaws in 54 were the fantastic sets and dead on costumes of the era. The dreamlike cinematography displaying the decadence of Studio 54 was very effective, as was the reproduction of the interior of the disco.
54 got to the essence of the disco era at its worst, and why we should be happy that it is long over.