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The Last Days of Disco

“This is a great place. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of. Cocktails, dancing, conversations, exchange of ideas and points of view. Everyone’s here, everyone you know—and everyone you don’t.” There’s a scene in THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO where a character has been booted from the Studio 54 inspired discotheque and laments having to go to a “regular” bar because no one dances there. It didn’t hit me until the last scene—when a character offhandedly mentions “the new herpes epidemic”—that this whooooole time these (heterosexual) characters have been going to the disco, a queer space, in search of connection and dancing and love because “regular” (heterosexual) bars can’t offer that to them. The constraints of heteronormative culture don’t allow them to be, or at least feel, free. And there’s something absurdly and deliciously ironic about that, and made the film much more interesting for its inclusion. Immediate new favorite. Love live disco.

nathansnook

The Last Days of Disco

“𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳!” Maybe everyone has an agenda. Maybe I’m part of it. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m supposed to be sat at home with a book, a single glass of wine. Or maybe the whole bottle. Maybe I was supposed to go out with that one friend who I don’t talk to anymore, just a quick catch up, until I get a bit bored and it’s time to club-hop. Maybe techno. Hard techno. Or chill house. The kind I listen to at home in the mornings to get me ready, out of the house. Maybe the whole world was where I’m always at, my favorite bar, favorite club, home, I call it, tell it together, let others know that I’m not always a homebody, that I get around every so often to know the difference between night and day. Night, I know, is a time for all the naughty things. I think when you do the naughty things in broad daylight, you’ve found the person you really love. What do I really love? Is it all of the lights? A good sound system? Dancing? Who is going to buy a drink for me? The glass half full has been sitting there a while. I know It’s a water but can I pretend it’s a gin and tonic? How do I bring the disco home? With someone? How do I tell them, Hey I’ve got this place not too far off, would you like to come over to lie down with me and think out these thoughts that have been bothering me? “𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳!” Stillman circles in dialogue to ring out conflicts. We come around. We leave together. Come together, again. Why doesn’t this happen anymore? So often we meet and then no more do we talk. We send memes, Instagram reels. Like things. Leaving each other absences. The writing is never trite and both Sevigny and Beckinsale are wonderful in that yuppie New York kind of way. Wonderful soundtrack. I have a crush on Tom, and he’s someone I want to marry, but I think it’s the hair talking. *In retrospect, it’s something Baumbach wanted to achieve with Kicking and Screaming (https://letterboxd.com/film/kicking-and-screaming/), but the zingers and flow weren’t there. And it’s thanks to Max K (https://letterboxd.com/slackavetes/) for reminding me I needed to get to this, to remind me that it’s so sad we don’t talk to each other anymore and sometimes I wonder if it’s these thoughts I leave on here or on Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/12036939-nathan) that is my way to talk my way to others. I’m talking! But am I heard? Am I read? So then, are we talking? Call me