Liked it mostly because it is an accurate depiction.

Rating: Null/10 (27 May 2001)

I agree, the story was a little weak, and some of the acting, although Mike Myers did a very nice job. But the movie does capture the era to a large extent, as well as the hallowed halls of the famous danceteria itself. How can I say this? Because, unlike most of those trashing this movie, I was actually there during its heyday (1978), and I can tell you that Mark Christopher DID in fact capture a lot of the details about the club.
Yes, they really did prevent "ordinary" people from entering, in just as condescending a fashion as depicted in this film, if not worse. Yes, your chances of gaining entry wearing a polyester shirt were near zero, no matter how empty the place might have been at the moment. Yes, the velvet ropes were controlled by 'Peter Perfect' doormen, who thwarted all sorts of tricks used to gain admission, such as calling out their names like they knew them, saying they were there before (somehow, the doormen remembered everyone, and that tactic rarely worked), riding up in rented limos and having the driver go up and announce "Mr. So-and-So is here" (that didn't work, either), or stripping off their clothes in the middle of the street (females). Yes, many did stay outside the club until 5 or 6 a.m., just to glimpse the beautiful people leaving. Yes, there really was a bag lady who was regularly admitted. Yes, there really was a crescent moon sniffing a coke spoon that descended upon the dance floor. Yes, there really was a balcony converted into a not-so-private area for more "intimate" encounters, of all varieties. The film didn't make up very much. It reported history, and pretty accurately, so far as I'm concerned. Don't like the decadence? Sorry, but that was the reality about this place.
Admittedly, I'm a bit partial to this film because the main character (Shane) looked something like me in those days - early twenties, blonde wavy hair, blue-eyed - and like me, was a Jersey kid who decided to take a trip across the river to the better places in Manhattan. Even that aspect was accurate, as there were probably many like Shane.
But unlike Shane, I never worked at Studio, and I never got too caught up its "lifestyle". And I'm quite grateful for the latter, for as I watched this film, I began to wonder about how many of the dancing hedonists I was acquainted with in those days were ultimately defeated by their own lifestyles, and like Steve Rubell, are now bopping in that great disco in the sky, if you get my meaning. For example, the friend who got me entry into Studio 54 - a person who was among the club's most loyal patrons - met an untimely end some years ago at the age of 37, due to hepatitis and AIDS. Back in the 70s, he once told me that he wanted his ashes scattered on Studio 54's dance floor after he died. In a way, he got his wish, albeit metaphorically; a sad story, as is the story in this film.
If you want to see a great drama, I don't think you'll find it here. But if you want to know what it was really like at Studio 54, then see this.