Studio 54

For a brief moment in time, Studio 54, an exclusive New York nightclub with a highly selective entrance policy and a somewhat less discerning attitude towards sex and drugs, was the place to be. Founders Ian Schrager and Steve Rubell renovated the out of use theatrical space in the middle of a crime-ridden area of Midtown Manhattan and transformed it into a hotbed of hedonism, celebrity and somewhat less glamorously-massive scale tax evasion. Director Matt Tyrnauer’s descriptively titled documentary Studio 54 lasers in on this idea of lawlessness, capturing the way that the club sealed itself from the outside world, disregarding any law that might inhibit the good times.

The film is at it most interesting when it examines how this isolationist attitude strove for something greater than selfish pleasure-seeking. One of the film’s many talking heads explains how the rise of disco culture gave birth to a scene where people of all races, genders and sexual persuasions partied together. Two drag queens interviewed within the club’s hallowed grounds explain how safe and at home they feel within the confines of the club. A painfully earnest, pimply Michael Jackson appears in one memorable bit of archival footage to express how much he loves the club’s judgement free attitude. The idea of nightclubs as a “safe space” for marginalised and vulnerable groups is a thought-provoking one. The club’s authentic counter-culture credentials certainly gave it some cache as a kind of protest ground that flew in the face of the prejudiced society that was determined to break its doors down.

But break its doors down they did, giving way the “fall” section of the Studio’s meteoric rise and fall narrative. Tyrnauer’s subjects, who include Schrager among them, are upfront about the realities of the club’s demise. They all seem to understand that it was a bubble bound to burst. The basement was an evidence room of dodgy cash and poorly concealed drugs and Rubell’s insistence that the club’s exclusivity made them somehow untouchable from the outside world made the arrest of the owners an inevitability.

What follows is a distinctly less glamorous portion of the film that comes to encompass the dawn of yuppie culture, the Reagan administration and the Aids epidemic. Studio 54 quickly goes from being an entertaining examination of a particular era of glamour and decadence to a tragic loss of innocence story.

Tyrnauer always keeps his focus squarely on the Studio and its affiliates, but in doing so he captures how even something as seemingly inconsequential as a nightclub can come to reflect, and fall victim to, the uncaring sweep of history.

Studio 54 is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, June 15th. It’s available on VoD from Friday, August 10th.

Citizen Jane: Battle for the City

When you think of New York what is it that comes first: buildings or people? Already in the 1930s, New York was one of the greatest cities in the world, and it was breathing modernism. Its skyscrapers, such as the Chrysler Building (completed in 1930) and the Empire State Building (completed in 1931), represented additional stories to the city. But prioritising buildings ahead of people when planning a city is a risky notion. That’s because people – not buildings – make cities.

Journalist Jane Jacobs was the first voice in the US to recognise that if you make massive transformations, getting people away from the streets, you are turning a living city into a dead one. Cities are unpredictable. Neighbours need lots of connections and public spaces to interact. Jacobs knew it and she spoke up!

The story of Jane Jacobs would perhaps be forgotten if it wasn’t for her fierce opposition to the broker Robert Moses. Citizen Jane: Battle for The City is essentially a one woman’s struggle against the man who wanted to homogenise New York. Moses was behind architectonic projects to clean the slums, build expressways that choked the city and erect low-income buildings that isolated communities. In 1960 Jane Jacobs’s book “The Death and Life of Great American Cities” sent shockwaves through the architecture and planning worlds because it exposed the dangers of such reconfigurations.

Jane led a popular movement against the proposed changes to the city

But Jacobs was not simply a writer. She was also an activist. Probably inspired by the Civil Rights Movement, Jacobs headed a huge popular insurrection against politicians’ plans to revamp New York. She was no longer on her own. She sued the City Hall. And she won.

The documentary shows how New York has been transformed since. Sadly, what she fought for is now being destroyed by gentrification of districts like Brooklyn. New York might not have many hills, but it is hard to walk in the city. The sidewalks are uneven, there are major works everywhere, and very little privacy. Even the luxurious swimming pools visible from Chelsea elevated passageway reveal that it is quite difficult to suppress invasion. Rearranging spaces means rearranging social relations.

Citizen Jane is a didactic film, based on papers and pictures. It is a very conventional documentary, and sometimes it gets a little dull. It collects a series of testimonies, but all of them are in favour of her visionary ideas, neatly manipulating the film viewers. The soundtrack contributes to a very disturbing feeling: Jacobs never rested.

A high moment in the film is to listen to the activist James Baldwin (who is also in the outstanding doc I Am Not Your Negro (Raoul Peck, 2017), explaining how such transformations led to removal of the “negroes” from the city.

Citizen Jane: Battle for The City is out on Friday, May 5th.