Perfect (1985)

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John Travolta and Jamie Lee Curtis star in this bungled, misbegotten movie about a Rolling Stone reporter who joins an L.A. fitness center to research the aerobics boom that happened in the late ’70s and early ’80s. There he meets Curtis, who is reluctant to be interviewed because of a past experience with journalists that nearly wrecked her life. But since Travolta is so smoking hot, the two start dating and he eventually gets his interview. But when the article finally comes out, it’s a scathing indictment of the fitness community, highlighting the sexual indiscretions of some of its members and reopening Curtis’ old wounds. How will Travolta ever come out on top under these circumstances? More importantly — do we care?

If Perfect were merely a cheeky romantic comedy set in the world of aerobics, it could have at least been a guilty pleasure. There is certainly an enjoyable ‘so bad, it’s good’ quality about the movie, especially when Curtis, Travolta, and dozens of aerobicising extras thrust their crotches and asses through the air to C-grade ’80s pop songs. There’s also a bawdy, protracted sequence at a male strip club. And on some primal level, it’s enjoyable to watch the two beautiful stars do just about anything. I mean, stop talking about stuff and just start rubbing each other down with lotion, why don’t you?

But Perfect doesn’t want to be a cheeky movie, nor a very funny or romantic movie. It wants to be a drama about journalistic integrity. Yawn. There’s even a political subplot and a courtroom trial for God’s sake. Unfortunately, the drama can’t hold a match to the wish fulfilling fantasy of humping and pumping with John and Jamie at the gym.

With Laraine Newman and Marilu Henner. Directed by James Bridges (The China Syndrome).