Another critic gets a rager over Xanadu. This time it’s Hilton Als over at The New Yorker. I’m starting to think this shit must be pretty hot.
Our favorite moment is here:
Out of the film’s wreckage, a number of synthesizer-heavy tracks, laced with Newton-John’s breathy vocals, emerged as hits, “Xanadu,” “Suddenly,” and “Magic” among them. These were the songs you might have listened to on your Walkman while pogo-ing over to your drug dealer’s.
For realz. Although my local drug dealer was the 7 11 down the road that sold me unquantifiable sums of little chocolate footballs and laffy taffy.
Following the Xanadu splooge is a full-on bitch slap of “The Last Year in the Life of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as Devised by Waterwell: A Rock Operetta”.
Operetta? Reeeally?
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[...] New York Mag parodies The New Yorker (or vice versa?) with its own double-bill review of “Xanadu” and [...]