The Last Days of DiscoAs you get a little older, you take stock of your life, and look back on the days when you and your friends would be up all night, dancing, partying, fooling around, living with abandon, but also engaging in all those meaningful conversations, varied topics, all that which matters to you, regardless of how significant in the grand scheme of things. Regardless of the age, The Last Days of Disco represents a little slice of time and place, one which anyone who can recollect those halcyon and heated days in their twenties can identify with, and can see a little bit of a reflection in the mirrored disco ball.
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Whit Stillman's The Last Days of Disco--like much of his work--features characters who are erudite conversationalists, capable of intellectual discourse, but not to the point of inaccessibility...unless that inaccessibility is played with a bit of a knowing wink. But rather than commit simply to long stretches of conversation, the film is punctuated by identifiable additions of disco era music, the dance club anthems of the late seventies and the early eighties, which is when The Last Days of Disco is set. The first thirty minutes of the film avoid any major exposition about Alice (Chloë Sevigny) and Charlotte (Kate Beckinsale), our yin-and-yang heroines, two polar opposites who become the unlikeliest of roommates, colleagues more "odd couple" than "soul sisters". No, the soul of the film is represented in the club, a kind of composite of discotheques of the era, such as Studio 54, and we get little bits of exposure to different, new characters, a kind of elegant blossoming of introductions in the midst of the reverie. Alice and Charlotte's circle of influence expands, as they run into Alice's college crushes, groveling advertising junior rep, Jimmy Steinway (Mackenzie Astin) and charming (if judgmental) environmental lawyer, Tom Platt (Robert Sean Leonard), whom Charlotte pushes Alice toward, implying that something's wrong with Jimmy, only to hook up with him later herself. The rounds of musical beds plays out through the film, with other additions like Des (Chris Eigeman), a host at the club with questionable ethics, especially in the way he breaks up with women. But for all the quirks and shortcomings any given member of the pack may have, they all make for great entertainment. Carrying on these kinds of discussions with aplomb hearkens back to our own days at that age, when we'd stay up to all hours, carrying on conversations not unlike this group's debate about making analytical associations about the characters in Lady and the Tramp being avatars of human behavior. That particular scene is especially interesting, as Des and Josh (Matt Keeslar)--an "A.D.A" (Assistant District Attorney) who has become exceedingly passionate about disco and also has a crush on Alice--each defend the characters they most identify with, in a verbal fencing match, fighting for the heart of the "lady", Alice.
With all of the vast network of fascinating characters, The Last Days of Disco is still the story of Alice, one of personal growth for her in her post-collegiate days working as an intern at a publishing firm. It's never too clear how Alice and Charlotte ever considered hanging out to begin with--since they don't really get along, but just work together and went to school with one another--but Charlotte pours on a slew of hypocritical advice (usually self-serving), and unfortunately, Alice starts at a point where her self-esteem is low enough to listen. Alice's relationships over the six-month stretch of the film portray her own heart, the advent of her career, her sexuality, and even her self-respect. Although Charlotte's motivations to push Alice away from Jimmy are suspect, she's kind of right about him, since he only appears interested when she isn't, or when he later gets wise. With Tom, Alice practically throws herself at him, thinking it's the kind of thing he's find "sexy", which backfires when he loses respect for her...but only after sleeping with her. Although not a romance, Alice does find a kind of companionship in "departmental" Dan (Matt Ross), a defensive but intelligent co-worker, whom the two feel they share a good working relationship, one which helps to foster Alice's career growth and sense of worth, building confidence in her work life. But in matters of the heart, Alice spends a good deal of time with Des, who is so emphatic about his rehabilitation as a womanizer and liar, that you might almost believe him...if he wasn't such a convincing liar. Maybe Alice does believe that he's reformed, but what I suspect is really the case is that after she gets a venereal disease from Tom, Alice no longer believes herself to be the "kindergarten teacher" she proclaims she isn't, but subconsciously views herself as--a "fallen" woman. For her, a cad like Des is her kind of self-inflicted punishment until she can build her self-esteem up an finally feel she deserves a nice, intellectual guy like Josh. The funny thing about love is that Josh is in the same kind of position, and it's clear that he wants to do right by Alice, but he is friends with Des, against his better interests. Sure, Josh has a few eccentricities--being diagnosed with bipolar disorder and the knowledge of it being made public by his "friend" Des is embarrassing--but Josh is a champion, of the law, of friendship, and even disco. He doesn't believe that Alice would necessarily leave Des for him, but he'll be darned if he doesn't try to show how good he can be. And the cynic in us all might think that girls don't really want a guy who is all nice and "white knight", but that's frankly dismissive and judgmental, and it's unfair to lump anyone into a generalization, regardless of sex. Like all good love stories, Alice and Josh discover each other by discovering themselves--the rest just comes natural; and you can't spell "discovery" without "disco". (Sorry, couldn't help it.)
Recommended for: Fans of Whit Stillman's wonderfully dry wit, but flavored up like a fancy cocktail with fun, catchy disco hits, a period piece which is timeless for the indelible charm of its characters and the playful wit of their discourse.
With all of the vast network of fascinating characters, The Last Days of Disco is still the story of Alice, one of personal growth for her in her post-collegiate days working as an intern at a publishing firm. It's never too clear how Alice and Charlotte ever considered hanging out to begin with--since they don't really get along, but just work together and went to school with one another--but Charlotte pours on a slew of hypocritical advice (usually self-serving), and unfortunately, Alice starts at a point where her self-esteem is low enough to listen. Alice's relationships over the six-month stretch of the film portray her own heart, the advent of her career, her sexuality, and even her self-respect. Although Charlotte's motivations to push Alice away from Jimmy are suspect, she's kind of right about him, since he only appears interested when she isn't, or when he later gets wise. With Tom, Alice practically throws herself at him, thinking it's the kind of thing he's find "sexy", which backfires when he loses respect for her...but only after sleeping with her. Although not a romance, Alice does find a kind of companionship in "departmental" Dan (Matt Ross), a defensive but intelligent co-worker, whom the two feel they share a good working relationship, one which helps to foster Alice's career growth and sense of worth, building confidence in her work life. But in matters of the heart, Alice spends a good deal of time with Des, who is so emphatic about his rehabilitation as a womanizer and liar, that you might almost believe him...if he wasn't such a convincing liar. Maybe Alice does believe that he's reformed, but what I suspect is really the case is that after she gets a venereal disease from Tom, Alice no longer believes herself to be the "kindergarten teacher" she proclaims she isn't, but subconsciously views herself as--a "fallen" woman. For her, a cad like Des is her kind of self-inflicted punishment until she can build her self-esteem up an finally feel she deserves a nice, intellectual guy like Josh. The funny thing about love is that Josh is in the same kind of position, and it's clear that he wants to do right by Alice, but he is friends with Des, against his better interests. Sure, Josh has a few eccentricities--being diagnosed with bipolar disorder and the knowledge of it being made public by his "friend" Des is embarrassing--but Josh is a champion, of the law, of friendship, and even disco. He doesn't believe that Alice would necessarily leave Des for him, but he'll be darned if he doesn't try to show how good he can be. And the cynic in us all might think that girls don't really want a guy who is all nice and "white knight", but that's frankly dismissive and judgmental, and it's unfair to lump anyone into a generalization, regardless of sex. Like all good love stories, Alice and Josh discover each other by discovering themselves--the rest just comes natural; and you can't spell "discovery" without "disco". (Sorry, couldn't help it.)
Recommended for: Fans of Whit Stillman's wonderfully dry wit, but flavored up like a fancy cocktail with fun, catchy disco hits, a period piece which is timeless for the indelible charm of its characters and the playful wit of their discourse.