For some reason known solely to her, Olivia Newton-John apparently fancied herself a major film star in the late 70s and early 80s. Let's face it: "Grease" wasn't quite Meryl Streep material, but Liv seemed to think she could really, you know, act. And movie producers must have taken her at her word because nothing else can explain the existence of "Xanadu," in which Olivia plays a muse sent to inspire all our creative longings for roller disco. (Uh huh.) Now, this may be Olivia's show, but that doesn't stop Michael Beck (who hasn't really been heard from since) from thinking that he could steal it from her. And boy does he try. As the commercial artist in need of inspiration, Beck compensates for Olivia's non-acting by overacting into orbit.

As the movie begins, Olivia and her sisters have been painted on a wall, but they soon dance right off it to the oh-so-dated tunes of ELO. Olivia, that rebel muse, doesn't follow her sisters into heaven, however; she roller skates along the Los Angeles coast until she literally runs into Beck. She kisses him without saying a word, and, while a normal reaction would be to call the police, he follows her. He runs into Gene Kelly (a slumming megastar stuck playing third banana to these boneheads), who is playing a clarinet by the seaside. The two decide to go into business together and open the world's most FAAA-BULOUS nightclub. This is inspiration? Anyway, that's how we begin what passes for a plot, but, unless you need a cure for insomnia, your best bet is to fast-forward to the beyond-tacky production numbers, which are the jewels in Xanadu's rhinestone crown:

(1) Beck and Olivia roller skate through a movie soundstage, which must have been owned by Roger Corman since the sets are about as cheesy as you can get. They amazingly figure out how to work the control panels, and the security guard only throws them out after they've finished singing their snooze-ville song, even though they've turned on every light in the place.

(2) Beck and Kelly stand in their empty roller rink, imagining what the club should be. Kelly envisions a twenties-style jazz atmosphere, while Beck pictures an only-in-the-early-eighties rock scene. Both of them are laughably over-the-top, and when they move across the floor and combine into one nightmare vision of the finished product, be prepared to lose consciousness.

(3) Beck and Olivia turn into animated animal versions of themselves. The less said about this, the better.

(4) Olivia and Beck take Kelly shopping at a boutique that specializes in that eighties faux-punk look, all loud colors, garish makeup, and rainbows of dyed hair. When Kelly acts like a human pinball and gives a mini-fashion show of these outfits, you will beg for mercy from the filmmakers. But it's not over yet.

(5) After he finds out who she is, Beck makes Olivia choose whether to stay on earth or go back to heaven, which she does with a ballad that even Celine Dion would have refused to record. But, to make matters worse, the director must have thought that just holding the camera on Olivia as she belts out this five-minute monstrosity was, like, compelling cinema. This scene is what God invented bathroom breaks for.

At last, the ultimate in Bad Movie Musical Finales is upon us. Kelly roller skates around the club in a tux, his reputation in shreds as he is surrounded by dancers who look either much too excited or bored to tears. These dancers, in fact, seem to have wandered in from about twenty different movies, all of them awful. We have disco, swing, breakdancing, Broadway chorus-style, you name it. (Keep the rewind and pause buttons handy to catch every second of inane choreography.) Just when you're thinking, "Who the heck would go to a club like this?" Olivia shows up in a brown jumpsuit that looks like someone's wayward tablecloth made up to resemble Goldie Hawn on a very bad day. She lazily sings the title song, but since she can't dance, she just sorta watches everyone else do their thing. Suddenly, she bursts into a medley where she's a leopard-print rock mama one minute and a forties showgirl the next (obviously wobbling on her heels). Then she lets loose with a country-western number, complete with forty gallon hat, beer mug, and the hammiest facial expressions she can manage. Then it's back to the title song, and to prove that this is the Big Finish, she wears a tinsel headdress and an empress robe before disappearing into thin air. And you'll be the one gasping for breath before it's all said and done.

Rating: three turkeys.

Scene to watch for: The Ling-from-"Ally McBeal" lookalike dancer in the finale.

Best line: There was dialogue?

Things that make you go "Huh?": Gene Kelly came out of retirement for THIS?