Perfect pretends to be an old-fashioned love story dressed up in leotards, but more than anything else, it’s a film about physical attraction. Set in the world of journalism, pic is guilty of the sins it condemns – superficiality, manipulation and smugness.
Formula is really quite simple – a man must prove his worth to a reluctant woman – but problems with the plot and profession it’s set in keep the affair from flowering.
Jamie Lee Curtis is an ex-Olympic-class swimmer turned aerobics instructor who was burned by a reporter and must be thawed out before she can enter into a relationship with star Travolta.
John Travolta is the heat, but before she can accept him, he must prove himself a decent fellow, something the film never really succeeds in doing. Character is a semi-autobiographical version of writer Aaron Latham, who based the script on a searing story he originally wrote for Rolling Stone and now seems to be exorcising here, feeling guilty for his ruthlessness.
Travolta cannot rescue his character, and he remains basically an unsympathetic figure. Curtis does cut quite a figure in her numerous aerobic outfits, and she does communicate a certain wounded pride and appeal.