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Hedwig and the Angry Inch

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Image credit: Hedwig and the Angry Inch, 2001

Do you remember the first movie you saw after leaving home as an adult? In my case, it was August 2001 (just a couple weeks before September 11th would change the world forever), and I found myself alone in a dorm room, at a college where I didn’t particularly want to be enrolled. Instead of unpacking, I decided to embrace my newfound freedom and hike up the street to the nearest cinema. Like a beacon, the poster for Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Disc/Download) screamed out at me. Securing the last seat in the tiny theater, the lights dimmed, and reader, this was the moment my movie-going life truly began.

For those unfamiliar, Hedwig is the adaptation of the off-Broadway smash hit about a gender-queer East Berlin rocker who becomes the star of a small cabaret act touring across Middle America. The band “The Angry Inch” is a reference to the botched sex change operation that’s left Hedwig somewhere between male/female, and it’s through their songs that we learn the saga of how young Hansel transitioned into the fabulous diva currently belting out power ballads from under an impressive collection of ever-changing wigs. This movie is a thought-provoking exploration of gender identity and love, featuring one of the best soundtracks I’ve ever heard. And for an eighteen-year-old girl who was still struggling to figure out a lot of things, Hedwig was an inspiration. This character forces us to look at the pieces of ourselves, even the ones we want to run from, in order to accept them all as perfect. Male, female, gay, straight, costumed in drag or naked in the street—we are all human, and must all learn to love ourselves in whatever shape we’ve assumed.

 A scene I particularly love is when Hansel meets the American soldier who would hatch a plan to get them out of East Berlin through marriage and the infamous “operation”. Lured by gummy bears, it’s like watching Adam and Eve take a bite of the apple. Suddenly, this young German’s grey world has a hint of color. Let’s toast Hedwig not with a vermouth on the rocks (because blegh), but with this colorful Gummi Bear cocktail.

Gummi Bear

1 ½ oz Raspberry Vodka

1 oz Peach Schnapps

½ oz Lime Juice

½ oz Simple Syrup

½ oz Cranberry Juice

3 oz Lemon-lime soda

Gummy Bears (Haribo of course!)

Combine Vodka, Peach Schnapps, lime juice, simple syrup, and cranberry juice in a shaker with ice.  Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Top with lemon-lime soda, and garnish with gummy bears.

I’ll never forget leaving the little theater in Dupont Circle on that hot August night, feeling like my own world just transitioned to color too. Feeling like things were going to be okay because I had myself, and I had movies. And when the world’s a bit amiss, there’s always makeup and a tape deck. Cheers!

On the Rocks

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Image credit: On the Rocks, 2020

2020 was indescribably hard for everyone, but for those of us who love movies, it was particularly bleak. Instead of frequent trips to the local cinema, we endured a string of forgettable indies on the couch while struggling to focus on literally anything. I know there were probably good films I just couldn’t give my full attention to (lookin’ at you Sylvie’s Love), but for the most part I sat through a lot of 2 ½ hr-long “edgy” movies that made me desperate for a recognizable star, a decent wardrobe/production design budget, and most of all a skilled editor. Eventually, I just gave up, got a Criterion subscription, and said to hell with modern films. It was during this frustrating time that I missed a rare gem in the 2020 wasteland, Sofia Coppola’s On the Rocks. I’m still annoyed it’s only available on Apple TV+, but I’m here to tell you it’s worth signing up for YET ANOTHER streaming platform to see this perfect marriage between Murray and martinis.

Truthfully, I will always give a lot of leeway to any movie that includes a swimming pool, cocktails, a cool classic car, and iconic hotel bars. The thin plot involving a woman trying to discover the truth about her husband’s affairs is almost irrelevant—I just want to watch rich people do their thing. It’s an escape for me; a glimpse into a world I can only visit for brief stretches of time. But oh, what a world. In this rarefied section of New York, Bill Murray plays Felix, a charming art dealer trying to reconnect with his estranged daughter Laura (played by Rashida Jones) through impromptu cocktail parties, drinks at the Carlyle, a late-night stakeout fueled by caviar and champagne, and a spur-of-the-moment trip to Mexico. Is he dad of the year? No. He’s a misogynistic asshole. But he is uniquely himself—unapologetic, wildly entertaining, caring in the only way he knows how.

I know this is not the first movie I’ve paired with a martini on Cinema Sips, but there really is no other option for this one.  You MUST watch it with a Sapphire Martini, and imagine it was brought to you in a chilled carafe on a little silver tray. Picture yourself back out in the world, sitting in an iconic Manhattan bar, where you’re paying more for the real estate and history than the gin. While watching On the Rocks, I recommend drinking a Sapphire Martini.

Sapphire Martini

2 oz Bombay Sapphire® Gin

½ oz Dry Vermouth

2 olives

Combine gin and vermouth in a mixing glass with ice, and stir to chill- about 45 seconds.  Strain into a chilled martini glass, and garnish with olives.

In a year when most new releases made me want to either curl into a ball and cry, or spend two hours restlessly browsing social media on my phone, On the Rocks felt like a fun breath of fresh air. There were no major problems, no big issues to overcome—these people would all be fine whether Laura’s husband is faithful or not. Felix tries to force his daughter to give herself permission to enjoy life again, and that’s what this movie feels like to me. Permission to make a cocktail, watch some pretty people, and have fun for a tight ninety-six minutes.  Cheers!

Bottle Rocket

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Image credit: Bottle Rocket, 1996

Longtime readers of Cinema Sips know I’m a sucker for any movie with a pool, and now that the weather’s warming up, I’m ready for an onscreen dip. Bottle Rocket (Disc/Download) manages to make a crappy motel pool look like Shangri-La, and although the comedic heist script is an absolute joy, let’s be clear—I’m mainly here for the swimming.

Despite the fact that Bottle Rocket was never a commercial success, critics nevertheless came away from initial screenings with the sense that this was the start of something major. The symmetry; the Mark Mothersbaugh soundtrack; the deadpan comedy style; the saturated colors—all hallmarks of Wes Anderson’s unique body of work. This film is the genesis, a place where we can come to view tiny glimpses of his brilliance, feeling like we just entered a world that’s somehow better than our own (even though it’s just a nondescript, forgettable Texas town). Small is the word I keep coming back to—small budget, small-time crooks, small in scope; however, the movie leaves me with BIG feelings. The romance between Luke Wilson’s character Anthony and the motel maid Inez is so beautiful, it’s enough to make even the worst skeptic believe in love at first sight. That pure, simple moment when you realize the person you love feels the same way in return—like a bottle rocket exploding in your heart.

Of course it wouldn’t be a Wes Anderson movie without a zany cast of secondary characters, one of which is simply called Applejack. It’s a tiny role, but pivotal to the final heist of the film. And lucky for me, cocktail-inspiring as well.  While watching Bottle Rocket, cool off with an Applejack Collins.

Applejack Collins

1 ½ oz Applejack Brandy

½ oz Orgeat

½ oz Lemon Juice

3 oz Club Soda

Combine Applejack, orgeat, and lemon juice in a shaker with ice.  Shake until chilled, then strain into a Collins glass over fresh ice.  Top with club soda and stir gently to combine.

I’ve talked a lot about how this was the start of Wes Anderson’s career, but let’s not forget brothers Owen and Luke Wilson, who also broke into Hollywood with Bottle Rocket. With their Texas drawls, dented noses, and good hair, the Wilsons were practically destined for stardom. Lucky for us, this weird little ‘90s indie film had enough fuel to propel them up there.  Cheers!

Purple Noon

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Image Credit: Purple Noon, 1960

We’re traveling back to good ole’ Mongibello this week with the original Tom Ripley, 1960s French sex symbol Alain Delon. Purple Noon (Disc/Download), née Plein Soleil, is a striking adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, which was adapted once again by Anthony Minghella in 1999 to become one of my top ten films of all time. I’m a sucker for beautiful people in beautiful places, and it doesn’t get much more beautiful than these two movies.

If you’ve seen The Talented Mr. Ripley, much of Purple Noon will appear familiar. Tom and “Philippe” cavorting around Rome while Marge sits at home and waits for her man to get his act together. Tom forging signatures, impersonating voices, acting almost too agreeable, too charming. Brash American Freddie Miles showing up to ruin all of Tom’s fun, before meeting his doom at the butt end of an ugly sculpture. Gorgeous Italian vistas, sailboats, and the sparkling Mediterranean. If you like Minghella’s Ripley because of the visuals, then I can guarantee you’ll love Purple Noon even more. The film is a little more poetic, lingering longer on the beauty of the coastline as well as the beauty of Delon. Like a young Jared Leto who actually cares about how he looks on-screen, Delon is all suntan, six-pack, and cheekbones, and director René Clément certainly knew what he had in this then-unknown actor, giving him ample opportunity to strut around shirtless. Thank you René. Thank you very much.

A lot of what I love about this story hinges on the idea of American decadence, so it seems like the perfect opportunity to indulge in a beautiful niche liqueur, Creme de Violette. Let’s be clear- this stuff exists only so we can have purple cocktails. Like Midori or Blue Curacao, you’re buying this for the color. But hey- nothing wrong with that! Sometimes it’s all about the visuals. While watching Purple Noon, I recommend drinking this Twilight Martini.

Twilight Martini

2 oz Gin

1/2 oz Dry Vermouth

1/2 oz Creme de Violette

1/4 oz St. Germain

Combine all ingredients in a shaker over ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with a slice of dried blood orange.

Ultimately, I think I still prefer the 1999 version of The Talented Mr. Ripley to the 1960 version. A lot of that has to do with the ending, and without spoiling Purple Noon too much, I’ll just say that I like a world where Tom Ripley gets away with it. We never see him hauled away in handcuffs in either adaptation, but Purple Noon gives him a more limited chance of escape. If you ask me, that pretty face just doesn’t belong in prison. Cheers!

In the Mood for Love

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Image credit: In the Mood for Love, 2000

Get ready to have your goddamn heart ripped out this week with Wong Kar-wai’s timeless masterpiece In the Mood for Love (Disc/Download). I’m sorry to do this to you, but it can’t be helped. I can’t NOT talk about one of the greatest romances in cinema history—even when I know it’s going to hurt all over again.

I first saw this film in 2000 when it came to my town’s tiny little art house theater, and I remember being overwhelmed by its style and emotional punch. Because the story takes place in 1960s Hong Kong, viewers are treated to colorful mod wallpapers and gorgeous mandarin-collar dresses worn by lead star Maggie Cheung (and believe me, this woman has a lot of beautiful dresses). In the Mood for Love is so undeniably sexy, with its sultry Latin Nat King Cole tracks, dark alleyways, and longing looks shared between the film’s protagonists, that by the end you feel like you need the lipstick-covered cigarette left behind in Chow’s apartment. It’s an impossible romance between two married neighbors whose spouses are sleeping with one another, and for the briefest of seconds you start to believe that a happy ending is possible for these star-crossed lovers. Surely, the perfect soul mate doesn’t just slip right on by, like a noodle off a chopstick. Surely fate isn’t that cruel.

Although this is by no means a cocktail-heavy film, that doesn’t mean we can’t draw inspiration from some of the amazing dishes prepared and consumed onscreen. Food becomes a conduit for the love between the two characters, and we see it clearly when Mrs. Chan makes Chow sesame syrup while he’s fighting a cold. You might not think sesame could be used in a cocktail, but I’m open to experimentation this week. While watching In the Mood for Love, I recommend drinking a Sesame Highball.

Sesame Highball

3 slices cucumber, plus a cucumber ribbon for garnish

¾ oz lemon juice

¼ tsp. toasted sesame oil

Pinch of kosher salt

2 oz Vodka

1 oz Simple Syrup

3 oz Club Soda

Line a highball glass with cucumber ribbon, fill with ice, then set aside. Muddle cucumber slices in the bottom of a shaker with lemon juice, sesame oil, and salt. Add vodka, simple syrup, and ice. Shake until chilled, then double strain into prepared highball glass. Top with club soda and stir gently to combine.

In the Mood for Love is a movie about destiny, love, missed connections, and secrets, with not a single inch of wasted celluloid. Told in a very precise manner, the brisk story pacing forces the viewer to search for a place to rest—often finding it in the brush of a sleeve against a hip, the cloudy exhalation of smoke, or the reflection of a street light on wet pavement. If it sounds dreamy and otherworldly, it is—because that’s what falling in love feels like. Cheers!

Avanti!

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Image credit: Avanti!, 1972

I’ve got a bad case of wanderlust, and it’s all Jack Lemmon’s fault. He makes the Italian island of Ischia look purely magical in this week’s film Avanti! (Disc/Download), an underrated Billy Wilder gem from the 1970s. Though Ischia and it’s highly Instagrammable Mezzatorre Hotel have long held a place on my travel bucket list, this film has moved it straight to the top. What I wouldn’t give to have a room with a view of the sea, thick coffee, an attentive concierge, and a waiter who will ply you with pasta until you forget all about your pesky diet back home. When swimming naked in the Mediterranean is an option, who cares how you look in a bathing suit?

Of course, it’s not all skinny dipping and afternoon prosecco. Jack Lemmon’s character Wendell Armbruster arrives on the island to claim the body of his father, who died in a car crash with his mistress in the passenger seat. The daughter of this mistress is played by Juliet Mills (sister of Hayley), and though Wendell and Ms. Piggott start the film as strangers, they eventually pick up where their parents left off. I watched this film at a weird time in my life, having just spent six weeks dealing with my father’s death and all the legal headaches accompanying it. To say that I identify with Wendell’s frustration about how long and complicated the processes of body transport, death certificates, and funeral arrangements are would be an understatement (and similar to Ischia, nobody works weekends in Florida either). But what I loved about this movie is that by the end, Wendell is able to move past the minutia of death to truly celebrate the life his father lived, in the place where he was happiest. That is how we honor the dead, by experiencing the joy they would have wanted for us.

My one quibble with this fabulous movie is the unfortunate body dysmorphia and fat shaming experienced by Ms. Piggott (even the name is like an underhanded dig at the character). I’m not sure why we’re supposed to believe that the gorgeous Juliet Mills is overweight, but let’s just say by 2021 standards she is not. Luckily, after a couple Bacardi cocktails al fresco, she’s able to loosen up and enjoy herself without counting every calorie. Let’s join in the fun with this rum-based cocktail. While watching Avanti!, I recommend drinking a Daffodil.

Daffodil

1 1/2 oz Bacardi White Rum

1 oz Cocchi Americano

1 1/4 oz Orgeat

1 oz Lime Juice

2 dashes Orange Bitters

Dried Orange slice for garnish

Combine all ingredients in a shaker with ice, and shake until chilled. Fill a tumbler with crushed ice, then strain cocktail into prepared glass. Garnish with a dried orange slice (or twist of orange).

There’s a moment in Avanti! where Juliet Mills says, “Italy is not a country- it’s an emotion.” What this film captures so well are the complex emotions of love, loss, humor, frustration, and longing. After living through a year where it seems everything came to a complete stop, what a relief it is to hear the word avanti. In English, it means move forward. Proceed with living. Cheers!

Cocktail

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Image credit: Cocktail, 1988

It’s finally happened– at long last, I have given in to the rallying cry of readers begging for a Cocktail cocktail. Or maybe I just got tired of having this 1988 cult classic reappear like a bad penny every time I type “movie cocktails” into Google. It should be Cinema Sips that comes up, goddamn it! So on a particularly uninspired week, I picked the lowest hanging fruit and gave Cocktail (Disc/Download) a shot. Verdict? Full of flair, with very low risk of hangover.

What do I mean by flair? I mean that Tom Cruise is juggling bottles and shakers like a circus performer in order to distract from the fact that this movie’s script is bananas. There is not one character to root for, and yet I can’t look away. I must know if “Cocktails & Dreams” will ever become a reality. I must try to understand why the lovely Elisabeth Shue would waste her time on a sleazy bartender in Jamaica. And above all, I must learn what the hell happened to TGI Fridays to turn it from New York craft cocktail hot-spot to airport den of desperation. Not all of these questions get answered (I’m still scratching my head about the Fridays thing), but that’s okay. It becomes clear early on that this movie isn’t interested in making sense, and we should just have a drink and enjoy the ride.

Perhaps the most puzzling aspect of all is that for a movie about cocktails, this one features a truly disgusting signature drink. The “Red-Eye” gets made frequently on screen, but fear not- I refuse to subject you to this concoction of tomato juice, beer, vodka, and a raw egg. Instead, I’m focusing on Tommy C’s time in Jamaica with a tropical drink that’ll make you feel like you’re saddled up to the wooden bar of your neighborhood Fridays. While watching Cocktail, I recommend drinking a Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri.

Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri

1 1/2 cups Crushed Ice

2 oz Rum

1 oz Lime Juice

1 oz Strawberry Simple Syrup (boil 8 oz strawberries with 1 cup water and 1 cup sugar until softened, then strain out solids).

1/2 oz Coconut Cream

Combine all ingredients in a blender, and blend until smooth. Pour into a hurricane glass, and garnish with a fresh strawberry and paper umbrella. Then sit and think about the guy who invented the paper umbrella, and how rich he must be by now.

Typically, I would not include coconut cream in a daiquiri, however for home blending, I find it helps with frozen drink consistency (and you can’t even taste the coconut). If you’re a longtime reader of this blog, you should be able to shout out the ingredients of all the drinks Tom Cruise has to master at the beginning of the movie. Nobody will have to tell YOU that a Cuba Libre is just a rum & Coke. And if you’re still learning, that’s okay. Cinema Sips is my Cocktails & Dreams, and it never closes. Cheers!

*For more Tom Cruise, be sure and check out the Tommy C Appreciation Club on moviejawn.com! Cinema Sips is proud to be a member :-).

A Streetcar Named Desire

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Image credit: A Streetcar Named Desire, 1951

There isn’t much in this world we can count on, but at least I know I can always rely on Tennessee Williams to give me stories of hot, sweaty men and a lot of alcohol. I’ve already discussed the sex appeal of Paul Newman in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, but running a close second is Marlon Brando in this week’s film A Streetcar Named Desire (Disc/Download). I think Vivien Leigh’s face speaks for all of us when he removes his shirt for the first time- Yowza.

As we’ve seen in other works by Tennessee Williams, this play-turned-film features an unhappy family trying to imbibe their way through the drama of life. Disgraced southern belle Blanche DuBois seeks refuge with her sister and brother-in-law in their derelict New Orleans apartment, becomes the world’s worst house guest, and watches an already-volatile marriage disintegrate. Would Stella and Stanley have lasted if Blanche had never graced their doorstep? I doubt it. Stanley was always a powder keg ready to blow. But throw in a mentally unstable woman who is the exact opposite of everything Stanley stands for, have her drink all his liquor and take baths all day to calm her nerves, and the fuse is officially lit. Honestly, I almost didn’t mind that Stanley and Blanche destroyed one another– they’re both kind of horrible human beings to begin with. Who I truly feel for is Stella, poor Stella, who now has to live with the knowledge that her husband is a brute, her sister is a mid-century Mary Kay Letourneau, and she and her baby aren’t getting air conditioning anytime soon. Somebody get this lady a drink.

Speaking of drinking, these characters only have to step outside their front door to find some of the finest watering holes in the French Quarter. I want to pay homage to a great drink I had at Galatoire’s a few years ago, the Ramos Gin Fizz. Someday, post-COVID, I look forward to having another one there. But until then, give your arm a nice workout with this tasty concoction.

Ramos Gin Fizz

2 oz Gin

3/4 oz Simple Syrup

1/2 oz Heavy Cream

1/2 oz Lemon Juice

1/2 oz Lime Juice

3 dashes Orange Flower Water

1 egg white

Club soda

Orange twist

Combine gin, simple syrup, lemon juice, lime juice, orange flower water, and egg white in a shaker. Shake for about 10 seconds, then add ice. Shake again vigorously for 30 seconds, then strain into a glass. Pour some club soda into your shaker, slosh it around to collect the remaining egg whites, then pour it over your drink. Garnish with an orange twist.

If done correctly, this drink will look as frothy as one of Blanche’s party dresses. It’s fun to see Vivien Leigh in another southern role, and I can’t help feeling that Scarlett O’Hara has really let herself go. Brando was perhaps never as electric as he was in the role of Stanley Kowalski, and no matter what your thoughts are on the man or the movie, you owe it to yourself to watch him scream STELLAAAAAA at least once in this lifetime. Cheers!

Meet Joe Black

Image credit: Meet Joe Black, 1998

They say nothing is certain in life but death and taxes. Having dealt with the loss of my father over the past few weeks, only to come home to a slew of W-2 and 1099 forms piled up in the mail, I can affirm this is true. After struggling to find a film that represents the impact my dad has had on my movie-going life, I wound up back here– in 1998, with a fully-highlighted, fully bonkers Brad Pitt, in this week’s pick Meet Joe Black (Disc/Download).

The thing about my dad was that he was up for anything as long as it meant he got to spend time with me. After I turned full “surly teenager”, he saw the writing on the wall. The late ’90s would be one of Lilith Fair concerts, swing dance classes (because Swingers), and movies. Dozens and dozens of movies. Without fail, every other Friday night we had a date to watch whatever celluloid scraps the film gods dumped upon middle-America. Meet Joe Black was such a scrap. At three hours long, this drama about a New York media tycoon (Anthony Hopkins) playing host to the grim reaper (Pitt) feels a bit like that long march to the grave. And yet… when the end finally comes, I’m not ready. I want more of the Brad we see in his first scene, before he gets clobbered (twice!) by a car. The Brad who knows how to sit in a goddamn chair and not look like a lost, mentally disabled twelve-year old at every turn. The Brad who is SO DAMN CHARMING in his meet-cute with Claire Forlani that I’ve moved my VHS copy of this movie through five households because I can’t bear to say goodbye to that scene. And reader, it was a two-tape movie.

Once Death decides to inhabit the body of Brad Pitt (because why not pick our finest living specimen?), all training goes out the window. The thing is, Brad is currently one of my favorite working character actors. But knowing what he’s capable of now only makes the scenes of him eating peanut butter that much worse. This week, let’s drown our sorrows in a cocktail Joe would thoroughly approve of. While watching Meet Joe Black, I recommend drinking this Peanut Butter Man cocktail.

Peanut Butter Man

1.5 oz Peanut Butter Whiskey

.75 oz Rye

3-4 dashes Angostura Bitters

Luxardo Maraschino Cherry

Orange twist

Combine peanut butter whiskey, rye, and bitters in a glass over ice. Stir until chilled, then garnish with a cherry and orange twist.

Brad’s acting aside, the main problem with this film is pacing. Many parts seem to drag on for an eternity, however this is actually a good thing when it comes to the few love scenes we’re given. You see, Death falls for the daughter of the man he’s come to claim, and before his vacation is over, he wants to have one final roll in the luxury high-rise hay. This scene is incredibly well shot, and could be a lesson to future romance films (not that these are even being made anymore, but I digress). The simple fact that my dad and I watched this together without a troubling amount of awkwardness speaks to its tastefulness. There’s a lot to mock about Meet Joe Black, but beneath the highlights, beneath the funny accents, lies a movie with a strong heartbeat. It’s a love story between man and woman, and father and daughter. It’s a story of Death yes, but also a celebration of life. And it’s the reminder I need that someday, “Everyting gwarn be iree.” Cheers!

Saturday Night Fever

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Image credit: Saturday Night Fever, 1977

Sometimes, when the days are dark and the world is falling apart, you just want to forget it all for a night and dance. Cue Saturday Night Fever (Disc/Download). This picture returned to my radar after watching a fantastic documentary about the Bee Gees, whose soundtrack was perhaps more influential and long-lasting than the film itself. However, watching it now, I’m once again blown away by how complex and interesting this “little disco movie” really is.

As we get our first glimpse of John Travolta walking down his Brooklyn street carrying a can of paint, the viewer gets an immediate sense of this character before he even says a word. Tony Manero is confident, slick, knows how to move to the beat of a song, yet seems to be seeking the approval of every person around him. We expect him to be the stereotypical male bimbo, but it’s a credit to the writers and Travolta that Tony is so nuanced. He’s horribly misogynist, yet shows genuine remorse when called out on it. He throws out racial slurs, yet gets mad when the Hispanic couple in his dance competition doesn’t get a fair shot. He’s the king of Brooklyn, but knows he’s wasting his life as a big fish in a small pond. It’s interesting to watch this in 2021 because here is a white male who has been brought up in a culture which inherently disrespects minorities and women, but gives hints he might have the courage and willingness to change. That’s just not something we see from a lot of men nowadays, on screen or in person. Do we need disco to make a comeback? Because on that dance floor, with the lights spinning all around, everyone is equal. Either you can dance or you can’t, and one’s value is completely based in how hard they’ve worked to perfect the steps. Rich, poor, black, white, brown, male, female, gay, straight—none of it matters. Music is everything.

To celebrate the outer borough Tony and his lady friend Stephanie so desperately want to escape, I’ll be drinking this variation on the Manhattan. It’s looks similar, but has more bitter notes (it’s probably just sick of crossing that bridge every day). While watching Saturday Night Fever, I recommend drinking a classic Brooklyn cocktail.

Brooklyn

1 ½ oz Rye Whiskey

½ oz Dry Vermouth

¼ oz Orange Bitters

¼ oz Maraschino Liqueur

Luxardo Maraschino cherry for garnish

Combine whiskey, vermouth, bitters, and maraschino liqueur in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a chilled martini glass.  Drop in a Luxardo cherry.

It’s surprising to me that this movie is sometimes labeled a romance on streaming platforms. Although it concludes with Tony and Stephanie sharing a soulful moment set to “How Deep is Your Love”, and it has some sexy dance scenes, that’s as much of a love story as we’re given. If anything, the romance is between Tony and disco. So that’s why, every time I’m combing through a stack of vinyl and see that familiar cover of John Travolta in his white suit (because every vinyl stack has one), I find myself smiling. In the end, Tony and disco had their happily ever after; it endures on my turntable. Cheers!