Xanadu (1980)

An artist dissatisfied with his rather good job throws caution and common sense to the wind when a woman who glows like a Ready Brek kid amorously assaults him in a public area. I'm not making this up. The mystery woman, who occasionally exists as a streak of light, is somehow drawn to the corny dialogue and piss-poor acting. If she had a résumé it would probably note that she likes roller-skates and enjoys fading in and out of corporeal existence.
Xanadu might well have been a fun idea on paper, but as a film it’s a train wreck, the colourful carriages of which were filled with fashion-crimes, surplus ELO albums and emergent dancers.

1 long lunch hour out of 5