I spent a few days earlier this week holed up in my apartment feeling under the weather. Whenever this happens, I find myself lying on the couch watching movies that are in far worse condition than I am. In the name of bringing one such gem to the consciousness of a younger generation, I offer it here.

In Staying Alive, John Travolta repeats his Oscar-nominated role from Saturday Night Fever for a sequel that came nowhere near the Oscars but can claim to be the gayest movie ever made by a straight man (unless director Sylvester Stallone is hiding something—there was a lot of horseplay in Tango & Cash now that I think about it…).

Travolta’s Tony Manero is now a Broadway dansuh. The movie opens with a big, pee-inducing closeup of Travolta in a headband chopping his hands frantically through the air in moves that someone would later steal for Showgirls. He’s an angelic mook, ethereally idiotic. A British dance diva (who, in real life, would later conquer General Hospital) shrewdly uses him for sex then, when she’s annoyed by his neediness, snarls, "We met. I liked you. We made it. What do you think it was—true love? Everybody uses everybody."

Undeterred, Travolta proves his worth by taking over the male lead in her big show. The production’s in trouble, see, as evidenced by the director/choreographer bitching out the cast with one of my all-time favorite backstage movie rants: "What we’re having here is a conceptual interpretation problem—which is easy to overcome if you just forget the fact that you’re dancers working for a couple of bucks. You’re translators of body language. That’s all dancing is—it’s body language. So don’t waste my time going through the motions of emotions. You got to feel what the hell you’re doing here! For those who forgot, the show is called Satan’s Alley. It’s a journey through hell that ends with an ascent to heaven. And you might think it’s simple. But if it’s gonna work you gotta bust your asses!"

Did I mention Stallone cowrote the screenplay? And no worries about anyone forgetting Satan’s Alley: Travolta removes most of his clothing, oils up, and busts his ass by tossing the Brit bitch aside and changing the choreography of the finale on opening night. Check your history (the following clip is even more priceless because it’s the Spanish-language version; don’t drink while viewing):