Disco's most popular document was, at the time of its release, also one of its least representative: Saturday Night Fever is disco for straight, white males. A phenomenon 30 years ago, John Badham's B-movie and its accompanying 2xLP soundtrack not only made John Travolta a star, but escorted the music out of gay discotheques and black nightclubs and into the glare of the mainstream. However, it did so by diluting disco's more extreme elements to create a safer, more marketable package. Even then, conservative audiences saw disco culture as a Sodom and Gomorrah rather than an alternative Eden. The recent surge of interest in the era-- specifically in Peter Shapiro's excellent history Turn the Beat Around, but also demonstrated by groups like Scissor Sisters and Franz Ferdinand-- only sets disco's outsider nature, as well as this collection's shortcomings, in sharper relief.

The movie itself is seedy in a different way (rape, bigotry, death), but as film critic David Thompson writes, "Children ignored its...sordid suburban context. That film only existed when Travolta danced." In addition to his extraordinary dance moves, the actor's edgy, preening presence holds the camera's attention as it juxtaposes him with the lifeless neighborhood around him. Similarly, the soundtrack, which Rhino is reissuing on its 30th anniversary, is a showcase for hetero heartthrobs the Bee Gees, who contribute a third of the tracklist, get a writing credit for Yvonne Elliman's "If I Can't Have You", and even grace the cover as some sort of mirrorball Holy Trinity. It makes cynical sense: The Bee Gees played their own instruments; had a dubious history in sub-Beatles pop; and were white and handsome-- all of which made them more marketable to new audiences than their black, female, or homosexual peers. As such, they should be critical pariahs on par with Stone Temple Pilots or the Killers, but their six tracks on Saturday Night Fever are frequently brilliant and redemptively fun. With its snaking instrumental melody and sneaking beat, opener "Stayin' Alive" is all cocksure strut, even separated from Travolta's stroll through the credits, and "Night Fever" and "You Should Be Dancin'" have an urgency that makes dancin' seem like a life-or-death imperative. Their portion of the soundtrack forms a condensed hits package that few bands of the era can rival.

Saturday Night Fever is by no means the definitive compilation of disco-- Rhino's 4xCD Disco Box, for example, is obviously more comprehensive, and Strut's Disco (Not Disco) comps and Tommy Boy's The Perfect Beats help capture proto-, post-, and underground disco-- but even beyond the contributions of the Bee Gees, it does have the potential to be a gateway comp, exposing listeners to a small range of disco subgenres. There's funk: "Open Sesame" doesn't rank among Kool & the Gang's absolute best cuts, but its silly vocals and breakneck horns are nevertheless impressive. There's soul: The Trammps' 10-story "Disco Inferno"-- the extended cut, no less-- provides both the soundtrack's climax and its denouement. And of course there's novelty: Walter Murphy's "Fifth of Beethoven" is not just the height of disco-geek cheese, but also the precursor to "serious" undertakings by contemporary artists like Mirwais and Moby. Surprisingly, there are even Latin rhythms on Saturday Night Fever, most notably on M.F.S.B.'s "K-Jee" but also consigned to the souped-up incidental music by David Shire and Ralph McDonald.

Ultimately, Saturday Night Fever doesn't disregard disco's underground origins so much as it simply sublimates them to the mainstream white experience. As a soundtrack, it works perfectly well, immersing listeners in the music (and therefore the spirit) of the film while selling more tickets. But as a pop-cultural document, it is significantly flawed, not only linked to a midlevel movie but also unable to fully capture the movement with which it has been so strongly identified. Thirty years later, after the ugly DISCO SUCKS trend and countless revivals both sincere and ironic, the appeal of Saturday Night Fever seems squarely nostalgic, but whatever its impact then or now, there is some amazing music on here-- and even more beyond.