Fame (1980)
- Soames Inscker
- May 19
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 8

Introduction
When Fame burst onto screens in 1980, it defied conventional genre expectations. Marketed as a musical, it was something more raw and authentic—a hybrid of cinéma vérité, ensemble drama, and the exuberant power of performance art. Rather than offering a tightly wound plot or typical Broadway-style musical numbers, Fame presented a mosaic of stories centred around the struggles and triumphs of students at New York City’s High School of Performing Arts. Directed by Alan Parker and written by Christopher Gore, the film captured the spirit of ambition, adolescent vulnerability, and artistic idealism with a kinetic energy that still resonates today.
Plot Summary
Fame traces the journey of several aspiring performers as they navigate four years of gruelling education at a prestigious performing arts high school. The film is divided into chapters—Auditions, Freshman Year, Sophomore Year, Junior Year, and Senior Year—and through this structure, it follows the evolving experiences of its characters.
Among them are:
Coco Hernandez (Irene Cara), a gifted and driven singer-dancer determined to "make it";
Leroy Johnson (Gene Anthony Ray), a streetwise dancer with raw talent and emotional baggage;
Bruno Martelli (Lee Curreri), a synthesizer-loving composer caught between his artistic ambitions and his traditionalist father;
Montgomery MacNeil (Paul McCrane), a shy, closeted actor;
Doris Finsecker (Maureen Teefy), a timid girl who transforms throughout the film;
Ralph Garci (Barry Miller), a stand-up comic who uses humour to mask deep insecurities.
Rather than follow a singular protagonist, the film weaves in and out of these students' lives, creating a tapestry of diverse voices and emotional truths.
Performance & Characterization
One of the most striking features of Fame is its cast—largely composed of unknowns or rising stars, who bring a rawness and immediacy to their roles.
Irene Cara delivers an emotionally charged performance as Coco, particularly in the haunting scene involving a predatory filmmaker. Her performance of the Oscar-winning title song "Fame" is iconic and empowering, but the film also reveals the dangers and disillusionments that lurk beneath ambition.
Gene Anthony Ray, who had no formal acting training, steals nearly every scene he’s in. His charisma and physicality as Leroy, along with his defiance and vulnerability, make him unforgettable.
Barry Miller as Ralph Garci gives perhaps the film’s most complex performance. His journey from class clown to broken artist grappling with personal loss is among the film’s most moving arcs.
Despite some thin characterization in places, the ensemble feels authentic, like real teenagers discovering themselves through art and struggle.
Direction & Cinematography

Alan Parker's direction is key to Fame's success. He brings a documentary-like realism to the proceedings, never over-glamorizing the performing arts world. Cinematographer Michael Seresin captures New York in all its gritty energy—cafeterias, subways, alleyways, and rehearsal rooms become stages for both performance and emotional expression.
The camerawork is often handheld and restless, mimicking the chaos and kinetic movement of adolescence and artistic discovery. Parker also isn't afraid to let scenes breathe or veer into discomfort. The film deals with sexuality, exploitation, identity, and failure—subjects that were uncommon in musicals at the time.
Music & Choreography
While Fame is a musical, it's unconventional in its use of music. Instead of characters breaking into song in the traditional Broadway sense, music emerges organically—students rehearse, jam, or perform in impromptu moments of inspiration.
The standout numbers include:
"Fame" – An electrifying scene that turns a lunchtime street gathering into a full-blown celebration of youth and possibility.
"Out Here on My Own" – A tender, introspective ballad that showcases Irene Cara's vocal range and Coco’s inner conflict.
Dance classes and auditions—raw and intense, they often carry more emotional weight than dialogue scenes.
Michael Gore’s score and the film's soundtrack (which won an Academy Award for Best Original Score) blend disco, classical, funk, and jazz, giving the film an aural texture that matches its visual vitality.
Themes & Cultural Impact
Fame is more than a musical—it’s a portrait of dreams and disillusionment, talent and toil, and the liminal space between adolescence and adulthood. It captures the psychological cost of chasing an artistic life, and the question of whether talent alone is enough.
The film was ground-breaking in its frank treatment of issues like:
Sexual identity and coming out (Montgomery’s subplot),
Exploitation and consent (Coco’s traumatic encounter),
Socioeconomic and racial dynamics (Leroy’s struggles with authority and literacy),
Mental health and suicide (Ralph’s grieving process).
Fame’s influence is substantial—it inspired a 1982 TV series, a stage musical, a 2009 remake, and a generation of performance-based media. Its legacy is especially felt in shows like Glee, High School Musical, and So You Think You Can Dance.
Criticism & Limitations
While Fame is bold in ambition and often brilliant, it’s not flawless. The episodic structure sometimes leads to uneven pacing and underdeveloped character arcs. Some critics noted that while the film aimed for realism, it occasionally resorted to melodrama or sentimentality.
Moreover, certain subplots are dropped abruptly or resolved too neatly. The film's depiction of female characters occasionally flirts with exploitation itself, especially in Coco’s storyline, which—though powerful—leaves her fate unresolved.
Conclusion
Fame (1980) remains a landmark film in the musical genre—one that prioritizes emotional authenticity and socio-cultural commentary over formulaic storytelling. It pulsates with energy, youth, and the raw yearning to be seen and heard. While it occasionally stumbles, its impact is undeniable.
For anyone who has ever dreamed of becoming an artist—or simply surviving adolescence with their identity intact—Fame is not just entertainment. It’s a mirror, a warning, and an anthem.
“I'm gonna live forever” may be a bold promise, but in the case of Fame, its spirit endures. A gritty, dazzling, and emotionally resonant film that transcends its genre to become a cultural touchstone.
