...ever bear witness to a movie...never mind if it proves good or bad (...let's face it...some films, like the one you are about to become privy of, are beyond such criticism)...from first frame to last, which has you so incredulously wide-eyed, mouth-gaped, constantly thinking, "...what the @#$%??" Whether you want to walk away or not, that you cannot turn away from it, because of the revelational unbelievability of what you are watching. And at the end, you catch yourself throwing your head back, slapping your forehead with the palm of your hand, rolling your eyes, and exclaiming, "...Jeez!!", a minute or two after the final credits roll...again, not necessarily because of whether the movie was good or bad, but because you just cannot grasp at the reasoning or the possibilities, as to why or how the film could have possibly come into existence, nor can you consider whether or not it deserves to exist. Your mind, gnawed and tortured, you unconsciously pick up the remote, push 'play' again, and engage the film a second time. And after all is said and done, you...uh, you throw up your hands, and sighingly resign yourself to actually liking the film; you're still not sure why or how you like it...or perhaps, you are embarrassed at the reasons for liking the film, but H-H-HAVE to admit liking it, nonetheless. If you can relate to any of this...you, my friends, are in the throes of what is, according to Hoyle, known as the 'guilty pleasure', or perhaps, as in the hapless case of this viewer, having recently embraced the obscure, though still irresistible, enjoyably ludicrous and hilariously wacky, grindhouse-styled, disco-themed comedy, 1979's "The Face with Two Left Feet", you have caught...'The Fever'...
...ya' know?? One really has to hand it to the more exploitively-inspired Italian filmmakers of the past 50 some-odd years. Italian Westerns. Horror Films. Shark Terrors. Giallos. War Films. Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fi. Cannibal Films (...Unique? Original? Eh, perhaps...but they are STILL, more or less, offshoots of the domestic 'flesh-eating zombie' film genre). They have shamelessly ridden the coattails of many of the domestic theme genres, concocted some of the most simultaneously outrageous and controversial knock-offs of those more higher profile domestic films (...I'm STILL waiting for an official release of "Great White"...a kick-ass 'Jaws' knock-off, which is damn good in it's own right, but may never see official release...thanks to a banning injunction, restrictively place upon the film by Universal), and yet these copycat films, time and time again, have invariably taken on a undeniable character & uniqueness of their own, and as such, the crust of the lot have been embraced and celebrated...many of them upheld to a respectable cult film status. And in lieu of that respect, this seasoned viewer had thought to have seen just about everything...had thought nothing further would surprise or shock, as far as what might emerge from the almost-forgotten, deep & darkened bowels of motion picture obscurity.....uh, that is, heh...until now...
...Gianni has been ousted by his obsessively 'fever' afflicted friends...found covertly hanging out at the local disco dance club, and pining after the beautiful and sexy Ilona...a DJ, spinning discs and shout-outs at the club, amusingly called "John's Fever", which is located near the hotel, where Gianni works as a cook. Shy, bespectacled, heavily mustachioed, and displaying a closed-up, boring, heavily sweater-garbed, yuppie-like fashion sense, Gianni is quite literally invisible to the unassuming Ilona, though his friends...also employees at the hotel...are sympathetic to his hopelessly romantic longings, and strive to help him out. In the midst of the hotel's frenzied preparation, after the exciting news of actor John Travolta's visit to Italy, a chance gag, involving the application of a black felt pen onto a fan poster of Travolta, changes all of that, as Gianni's friends conspire to turn him into the spitting image of the "Saturday Night Fever" superstar, in order to fool and impress Ilona. There's only one problem, here: Although Gianni now bears the eerily uncanny look of Travolta...uh, he can't dance like him...in fact, can't dance at all. However, love can sometimes instill some amazing inspiration, ability and confidence, as Gianni takes to the dance floor, with moves that might impress the "...Fever" film's Tony Manero character, himself. Ilona is indeed impressed with the facade, though Gianni now becomes concerned and introspected with not only having her find out about the deceptive ruse, but also with his greater desire for her to like him for who and what he actually is. When the deception gets out of control, and the club's gangster-like owner tries to cash in on Gianni's new appearance and popularity, it's up to Gianni himself, to set things straight. Will he??
...it is in the midst of the crazed 'mistaken identity' hilarity that ensues, where the outrageous, wackyland "you gotta be freakin' kidding me' moments, take place. In between the assorted matchmaking shenanigans...various goofy, almost slapstick vignettes involving Gianni's disco-obsessed friends, and work associates (...the former of whom will find ANY excuse to break out with their dance movies...no matter where they are), and what they do at the hotel...amongst them, the horny bellhop, whose lustful inclinations are humorously run through the gauntlet, when he alternately services attractive, and not so attractive lady hotel guests...the bubbly fashion shop gal, who keeps forgetting to check the shop, when she leaves and locks up for the day, always locking her increasingly frustrated boss in, for the night...the beauty shop manager, who himself maintains a covert, albeit exaggerated facade of effeminate 'fluffiness' by day, but in reality, is a devoted family man, replent with bickering wife and kids...the stuffy, portly concierge, who thinks he's going crazy, when he continuously mistakes the real Travolta for the fake one, and vice-versa...the nosy, eavesdropping hotel operator, whose obsession with John Travolta, and the movie, "Saturday Night Fever", instigates the whole elaborate and convincing makeover plans of the group's haplessly lovelorn friend, Gianni...
...however, clearly topping all of these other incredulously nutty '...what the @#$%??' moments, is Italian actor Guiseppe Spezia's transforming performance as Gianni. Having nourished quite a lucrative, albeit genuine career in the '70's, exploiting his eerily uncanny resemblance to John Travolta...here, ideally cast in "The Face with Two Left Feet", Guiseppe/Gianni starts off, looking very bland and ordinary looking, with the character's thick eyeglasses, thicker hair and equally thick mustache...almost coming across, looking more like a poker-faced 'Weird' Al Yankovic, than Travolta. At the prerequisite makeover moment in the film, when Guiseppe's/Gianni's feature masking 'disguise' items are shed, some effective hair styling & facial shaving efforts are applied, and the black satin shirt & white polyester suit ensemble is adorned, the overall effect is, well...quite startling and mind scrambling...even at times distracting, in the sense that the viewer, in trying to keep up with the story and the comedy that ensues, might well be uncontrollably drawn to the transformed character, and the unbelievable likeness to John Travolta...the chin, the smile, the eyes, the hair. It almost makes one wonder if whoever wrote this contrived, albeit comically inspired and ambitious little ditty of a film, outright did so, after having 'discovered' Guiseppe, and his uncanny, imitative stint...
...as comically insane as this exploitive, infectious and obscure bit of cult film fluff is, and despite the obvious meager budget afford this contrived, albeit ambitious lil' production (...hey, dig those crazy, out-of-date clothes, those clearly non-disco-looking 'disco' moves, and those cardboard sets), there's most assuredly a lot of heart rendered her, with "The Face with Two Left Feet" (...also known as "The Lonesome Destiny of John Travolto"). The film is comparatively not too far removed from that of an obnoxious friend, whom one just can't say no to, and yet, would sorely miss, if gone for even the most remote and shortest amount of time. Hey, rest assured there HAVE been considerably WORSE, albeit higher profiled and lavished disco themed comedies out there, equally upheld to the prestigious (...or should we say 'notorious') level of 'cult film'...embraced films, which in the midst of viewing,quite literally suck the life out of one's voluntarily offered brain cells. Uh, "Roller Boogie", "Can't Stop the Music", "Xanadu" or "The Apple", anyone??? Come on...considering the options, one can clearly do much worse, right?? Give it a try...the 'fever' is waiting.....
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