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 and emotionally scrappy revival of David Gilmore’s 1993 production. TV talent-contest winners Danny Bayne and Susan McFadden set the tone: everything about 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. Bayne and McFadden uncontrollably swell with joy every time they step on stage (McFadden can’t keep the grin off her face even when she’s just been crushingly dumped by Danny) and their stage presence as contest-winners overpowers their stage presence as their characters. Bayne at least can boogie rather brilliantly; his Danny has a cheeky charm and vulnerability which McFadden’s stodgy Sandy fails to respond to. Fans will love his knowing variations on John Travolta’s inflections.
But 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 the most enjoyable part: Charlie Cameron makes an endearingly gawky, triple E-cup Marilyn-wannabe, with a voice like Jessica Rabbit, and Tim Newman extracts every available inch and more of mugging, tripping, windmill-armed fun from uber-geek Eugene. 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’.
