What We Have Made is Real: We Are in Xanadu

I just had dinner with an old Yippie punk who'd never heard of Xanadu, the sublime roller disco flop that was Olivia Newton John's 1980 follow-up to Grease. "I didn't listen to Olivia Neutron Bomb!" he told me indignantly, and when I protested that the soundtrack was produced by ELO's Jeff Lynne, whose music is candy sonic heaven to my ears, he said he didn't like him and his 100-cello string sections, either.

It would be hard to claim that the film stands the test of time. ELO's "I'm Alive" may be ringing out joyfully, but the roller disco fantasia "grand finale" still looks like it was filmed in a gymnasium with cardboard sets, and frankly, nobody, not even Olivia, is very skilled on their skates. The presence of a legend like Gene Kelly is just embarrassing for everyone. But still, despite the myriad flaws, there is something genuinely special about this silly movie. Part of it, of course, is the combination of ONJ's wide-eyed blonde beauty and that aching, angelic voice that defies any wooden acting or clunker lines, but I think the other big factor is the brilliant Los Angeles location scouting - the Pan Pacific Auditorium being the icing on the cake.

This Streamline Moderne masterpiece, which opened its doors in 1935 and burned to the ground in 1989, was abandoned and in ruin when it was immortalized in the film, transformed into the "Xanadu" of the title with a little ingenuity, some elbow grease, and Gene Kelly's cash. Pictured here is the "album cover" on which Michael Beck's Sonny first spots Olivia's Kira before she - a muse and daughter of Zeus (hence the "Nine Sisters" title) - skates down from Mt. Olympus to bewitch him with a kiss. (Upon hearing that plot detail, the old punk declared that the writers must have been smoking pot when they came up with the story, and I have to say I think he might be right.)

But forget all that for a minute. Look at those deco spires that feel so awesomely '80s, that airbrushed rainbow sunset, those supple, slouchy white boots, Olivia's witchy stare and the dazzling neon halo around her. When I see all that I still get an electric tween thrill. You might call it nostalgia but I have to believe it's magic.