In his essay "In Defence of Disco", published in 1979, the British film scholar Richard Dyer writes: "Disco can't change the world, make the revolution. No art can do that, and it is pointless expecting it to. But partly by opening up experience, partly by changing definitions, art, disco, can be used. To which one might risk adding the refrain: If it feels good, use it."

While denounced by many as just being mindless fluff, disco is rightfully recognized by Dyer as a cultural form that contained a political potential, specifically for gay male urban cultures of the 1970s. Then, in a tragic twist of fate (one which Dyer could not have envisioned), the AIDS epidemic made discoís political potential visible. With the coming of AIDS, disco hits like
"I Will Survive", "Don't Leave Me This Way", "Last Dance", "No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)", and "So Many Men, So Little Time" were no longer simply catchy dance songs celebrating sexual freedom and bodily pleasure, but also became expressions of grief and mourning, a nostalgic longing to a pre-AIDS innocence, as the short films (Tell Me Why) The Epistemology of Disco (John DiStefano, 1991) and The Dead Boys' Club (Mark Christopher, 1992) make perfectly - and poignantly - clear.

The more recent Paradisco, a 18-minute French short film directed by Stèphane Ly-Cuong, also tries to recapture disco's political potential and its revolutionary character. Set in the present, Paradisco takes place in the apartment of the 40-something François (Jérôme Pradon), who, at a retro disco party the night before, has picked up the much younger and extremely cute Nicolas (Nicolas Larzul). After a night of hot sex (as François tells his American friend, played by Anthony Rapp of Rent fame), the two men share a morning-after coffee together. While noticing that François has been packing his belongings to move to a new apartment, Nicolas rumbles through a stack of old disco records: Abba, Gloria, Donna, Diana, Michael Jackson. The mention of disco prompts François to tell Nicolas about the disco times, when he and his friends had disco parties at his apartment. Suddenly, the two men are transferred back into time, to New Year's Eve 1979. François' apartment is filled with happy people, singing and dancing to a song that literally exclaims the disco revolution. Moving across the room, François tells Nicolas about his friends, how they celebrated the freedom that disco promised, and then he points out the friends who are no longer alive.

The biggest problem of Paradisco is that the "Paradisco" song (composed specifically for the film by Patrick Laviosa) is really not that disco at all, but rather a slick bombastic musical number. The costumes of the actors (most of them French musical stars) do not suggest that we are being transferred back into time at all. Instead we, together with François and Nicolas, find ourselves at a retro disco party, with the 1970s disco style reduced to its clichèd essentials such as platform-soled shoes, disco balls, and (obviously glued on) abundant chest hair. Anyone who, like me, had to endure Saturday Night Fever: The Musical will recognize the similarities. The film's DVD edition - with its bonus features "Learn the Paradisco steps!" and "Sing along with Paradisco!" - reinforces this notion of disco as merely a fashionable sign of the 1970s era of hedonistic retro fun.

Yet, in spite of its reduction of disco as sheer retro fun, Paradisco does succeed in bringing across the message that disco's promise of sexual and individual freedom was more than rampant hedonism. Although AIDS is not mentioned, François' subtle pointing out his friends who have died is clearly a poignant reference to the epidemic that put an end to disco's innocence and challenged the celebration of sexual freedom. While the film's re-enactment of the disco experience itself remains unconvincing, the excellent acting of the two main characters - connecting "gay experience" across different generations - reveals the bittersweet character of disco, its combination of pleasure with melancholy.

By foregrounding this bittersweet experience, Paradisco reminds the viewers that disco, in all its frivolousness, was more than just cheesy dance songs and silly outfits, thereby echoing Dyer's claim that disco may not make the revolution, but still can be revolutionary.

Related Reading
Macho Dancer
Zona Rosa
Priscilla: Queen of the Desert

AIDS Index

Jaap Kooijman's Website