Saturday Night Fever

Iconic from the get-go—with John Travolta’s dance-machine Tony Manero peacock-strutting through the streets of Bay Ridge to “Stayin’ Alive”—this remains, of course, the quintessential emblem of the disco fever era. But those expecting a cheesetastic, glitz-glazed time capsule will be surprised to find a surprisingly raw, almost kitchen-sink-style look at racial and class tension in blue-collar Brooklyn, with Manero and his hoodlum buddies adrift in a dead-end world of street fights and testosterone-fueled bad choices. The highs—Travolta’s hip-thrusting star power, the electric dance-floor sequences, the parade of Bee Gees hits—are all there, but so is the bleary-eyed comedown.