John Travolta continues his wearisome trek through America’s fleeting enthusiasms (Saturday Night Fever, Urban Cowboy), though this time he arrives a day late (wasn’t aerobics over a couple of years before this?) and a few dollars short. Screenwriter Aaron Latham, adapting from his own Rolling Stone article, has barely bothered to provide a fictional hook: Travolta plays a Rolling Stone reporter named “Adam Lawrence” writing a story about the physical fitness movement. He meets aerobics instructor Jamie Lee Curtis, they have a predictably stormy courtship (she doesn’t trust reporters), and that’s about it, except for a few demonstrations of Lawrence’s truly breathtaking expense account (he flies back and forth between New York and Los Angeles at the slightest whim, while room service waiters keep him supplied with an endless parade of shrimp cocktails). Apart from Curtis, no one seems to be trying very hard (least of all director James Bridges, whose excellent work in the 70s seems long behind him here), and the film falls apart from a horribly evident lack of interest, conviction, and imagination. With Anne De Salvo, Marilu Henner, Laraine Newman, and (as himself) Jann Wenner.