A legendary flop and a legendarily bad movie, this mess is part three in a career-killing trilogy of Travolta's that also includes "Staying Alive" and "Two of a Kind". It took him a long time to bounce back. It also stalled Curtis's career for a while until "A Fish Called Wanda" rescued her. The story, such as it is, concerns Travolta, a Rolling Stone magazine reporter, looking for a story angle within a huge gymnasium at the height of the aerobics and fitness craze. He's already working on another more important story, but wants this as a back-up in case an all-important interview falls through. He zeroes in on high-profile aerobics instructor Curtis who has a huge following (which often kisses her on the mouth following one of her workouts!) Unfortunately, she's had a major disaster with a reporter in the past and resists being interviewed for his story. In order for there to be a movie, he must wear her down and get her assistance even though there are 90 other instructors at this mega-gym. The film is very unfocused and disjointed throughout. It tries to be too many things: a reflection of investigative journalism, an ethics drama, an examination of self-esteem issues, a music video crash-course in Jazzercise and, most obviously, a jiggle movie with emphasis on lycra-clad spread legs and tight behinds. The script is so crass and stupid with ludicrous lines like, "You're a sphincter muscle..." (this one is repeated often!) and unnecessary subplots which lead nowhere. Travolta is awful. He speaks his lines with his mouth almost open, stares blankly with no skill at conveying what's on his mind and, in the films most celebratedly horrendous scene, gyrates his bulging crotch at the camera ad nauseam while sweat trickles down his pale, clammy face and body. Curtis looks very fresh and attractive most of the film (if a bit sexually ambiguous) eschewing the huge hair and heavy make-up of the times. Her character is a little too self-righteous, but her acting is better than anyone else around. Wenner, a non-actor, provides a jarring presence whenever he appears because he (along with several other "real" people cast in the film) hasn't got the polish to really sell his role even though it reflects his position in real life (as the founder of Rolling Stone!) Most of the other actors in the film either overact horrendously or flat-line. More importantly, the audience does not care about anyone in the film and so does not care when various events and revelations come about. There is some inherent camp value in revisiting the hilarious workout clothes of the 80's and in hearing the bouncy, tacky music of the era, but the movie is way too long for it's subject matter and the music montages wear out their welcome very quickly. And for all the sweating and gyration, there are no sex scenes in the film. Look out for pansexual Burt Reynolds look-alike (and alleged Travolta bed partner) Barresi in the cast as a gym rat eager to show off his body.
