by Maynard
Forty-five years ago, Xanadu spun into cinemas on a burst of glitter, roller skates, and Electric Light Orchestra harmonies. The critics were merciless, audiences were divided, and Hollywood quickly chalked it up as a flop. But decades later, this ball-bearing-powered musical still shimmers, not in spite of its flaws, but because of them. It’s time we stop apologising for Xanadu and embrace its rightful place as a cult classic.
In 1980, roller discos were the adolescent hangout of choice and disco balls still sparkled unironically. Into this landscape rolled Xanadu: a genre-smashing blend of fantasy, old-school MGM musical nostalgia and neon-bright pop spectacle. For some, it was too much. But for those willing to surrender to its camp optimism, it was pure joy. That joy lingers.
First, let’s talk legacy. Xanadu was Gene Kelly’s final feature film. To see one of Hollywood’s most graceful stars lace up roller skates and glide through choreography that he micromanaged himself is reason enough for preservation. And at the film’s heart is Olivia Newton-John, just off the global phenomenon of Grease. Few performers radiated the warmth, generosity, and sheer likeability of Newton-John, and her presence makes even the most bizarre narrative turns feel irresistible. Her songs from the soundtrack — “Magic” and the title track “Xanadu” — weren’t just hits; they became anthems of the moment, the former reaching number 1 and the latter holding strong in the charts alongside Village People’s “Can’t Stop the Music” – from the movie of the same name, of which Olivia turned down the female lead role (good call, Livvy).
Sure, the film has flaws. Multiple scripts, murky lighting, a budget that somehow didn’t buy enough light bulbs — it’s a mess. But it’s a glorious mess. Yet even within the chaos, moments of magic shine through. Kelly’s number “Whenever I’m Away From You” feels like a goodbye letter to the golden age of musicals, while the climactic skating sequences deliver unabashed exuberance. And on modern restorations — particularly the 4K UHD — the musical numbers reveal a dazzling vibrancy that critics of the day never got to appreciate.
What separates Xanadu from cinematic curiosities like The Apple or Glitter is its sincerity. There’s no irony in its optimism, no cynicism in its embrace of fantasy. It’s a film that believes in creativity, collaboration and the simple power of music and movement to make us feel lighter. In an era of gritty reboots and dark blockbusters, its outrageous positivity feels almost radical.
Cult status isn’t about perfection — it’s about persistence. It’s about the films that critics dismissed but audiences never fully let go of. It’s about karaoke nights belting “Xanadu”, about midnight screenings where roller skates are mandatory, about smiling at the sheer audacity of Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John gliding side-by-side in a movie that refuses to apologise for being “too much”.
Forty-five years on, Xanadu still dares us to drop the cynicism and surrender to joy. And really, in 2025, couldn’t we all use a little more of that? So be a Xanadu, not a Xanadon’t — and let this sparkling roller-disco fantasy roll on into cult immortality.
Maynard presents the 45th anniversary screening of Xanadu at Sydney Underground Film Festival on Saturday 13 September at 8:30pm, followed by an afterparty at Bootleggers from 10:30pm.
Tickets available from suff.com.au
