Grease

Wherever you stand on the 'Grease' debate: hopelessly devoted to Danny, Rizzo, Kenickie and pals, or glumly convinced that they're a giant hickey on the face of contemporary culture; chances are you've 'chang chang changity chang shoo bop'-ed your way through at least one of their gloriously retro hits. The tunes from 'Grease' are about as ubiquitous and indestructible as bubble-gum - they pop up and glisten even out of this surprisingly sexless revival of David Gilmore's 1993 production.

Much of this show - the razzle-dazzle jackets of the band, the thin but heavily-amped sound, and the vigorous revival of Arlene Phillips' cheekily parodic hand-jiving routines - screams variety-show tribute-act. And it's an impression that leads Matthew Goodgame and Carina Gillespie, as Danny and Sandy, just aren't charismatic enough to shake.

At least the script lifts the performances beyond insipid by upping the bitching levels on the film - there are some updated playground insults, while Siubhan Harrison's super-hard Rizzo regularly gives Sandy the finger and at one point wrestles her on the floor in a cat fight.

This whole show - basically a tribute to a revival of a pastiche of a parody - is several degrees removed from reality. The cartoonishly over-animated, fun-packed cameos are consequently one of the most enjoyable parts, with Matthew Russell-Jones squeezing his tripping, windmill-armed uber-geek Eugene into more scenes than the film. But the lack of emotional story, of raciness (and indeed a real car-race) make it all feel less like the sexy hot-rodding of the movie, and more like 'Wacky Races'.