54
Created by Don Rupe
Renaissance Theatre Company
by Carl F. Gauze
I enter the building through the back door. There’s a metal detector and a pat down, and then a long scroll through the guest list. Aha! I AM on the Kool Kids list, and am rewarded with a red wristband and an unexpected invitation to an afterparty, if I’m still in a party mood. We shall see.
Inside the hangar-like main room, disco balls spin lazily, thumping techno fills the ears, and I wander around looking for acquaintances and an empty seat. The bar line is crowded, and loud music sparkles in the air, along with lasers bouncing off orbiting dust motes. The scene is pure John Travolta but with more tattoos and better cell phone reception. I find a seat perched in the upper loft with a good overhead view of the dance floor but uncomfortable stools. But we’re not here to sit, we are here to dance and mingle. To my right sits a five-piece band backing up the thumping bass beat. To my left is a young lady with a mask and ’70s knitted top and mustache. The Governor’s head would explode if he stumbled into this party, but I doubt he’d be on the guest list. On the ledge before me is a QR code for the bar — they will deliver to your seat, unless, of course you hit the dance floor.
It’s a must-see experience, especially if you weren’t around for the disco era in 54’s glory days. There’s no engrossing plot here, not that one would matter. The atmosphere is the thing, and a life-size fiberglass horse hangs out near the entrance. I seem to remember a horse in the real Studio 54, or at least in a Pet Shop Boys video. The music is hot, it’s current, and it sounds good. Things happen constantly, the sound rarely stops, and we are all happy, even if getting drunk requires an American Express platinum card.
I recommend this for the fun of the experience and not any crafted story telling. And as for the after party? It’s been a long week, and while I appreciate the invitation, tonight, I’ll pass.
