Grease
Dominion Theatre
Reviewed – 17th May 2022
โ โ โ โ
โif the onstage passion isnโt quite โelectrifyingโ, the overall presentation is.โ
Picture the scene in a cold, forbidding producersโ office. Youโre pitching a musical. โWhatโs the plot?โ they ask. Well; itโs boy meets girl, boy and girl indulge in a bit of โsummer lovingโ on holiday, boy spurns girl in the face of peer pressure back at school. Girl sees him for the shallow guy he is, so loses interest anyway. For some inexplicable reason she then decides that she wants him after all (teenagers, eh?). So, she changes her image, trashes whatโs left of her endearing and intelligent personality, and dresses provocatively to entice this somewhat dumb and superficial guy. And – Hey Presto! They go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong.
If you havenโt already been shown the door, you might just get to throw in that you think a two-thousand-seater West End theatre is the perfect venue. Preposterous. So maybe you should start the pitch with the title. When โGreaseโ was released for the cinema in 1978 it became the highest grossing musical film ever at the time. โGreaseโ was, and still is, the word, as the title song informs us. The New York Times called it โterrific funโ. Four and a half decades later that description still applies.
The current revival at Londonโs Dominion Theatre harks back more to the original musical which preceded the John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John blockbuster, and which ran on Broadway for eight years until 1980. Itโs London debut starred Richard Gere. But the familiarity is still there, and everything we simultaneously love and lambast is bursting at the seams in Nikolai Fosterโs sumptuous production. There is a glorious mix of silliness and surreality, bubble-gum and bravado. No matter that the storyline is imperceptible to the point that the opening bars heralding each song are a welcome respite from the banality of the dialogue.
It is within the musical numbers that the heart of the show beats fiercely. There are a couple of additions to the set list, and a couple restored from the original, though these feel inconsequential when up against the wealth of crowd pleasers. Foster bravely doesnโt always play to the crowd, however, but instead injects a freshness that puts a new slant on some of Jim Jacobsโ and Warren Caseyโs compositions. Highlights include Jocasta Almgillโs biting rendition of โThere Are Worse Things I Could Doโ or Olivia Mooreโs poignant โHopelessly Devoted to Youโ during which she decides she no longer belongs on the side-lines.
Mooreโs Sandy does flirt with feistiness, but the character cannot escape the constraints of the script. Even in the seventies one must have wondered why she submits to such gender stereotypical peer pressure; and the question certainly looms larger today. In fact, there are so many wrong messages bouncing off the walls of the auditorium. For the most part they are drowned out by the infectious rhythms of the music and the gusto of the performances, driven by the sheer power of Arlene Phillipsโ choreography.
There is little to be gained from looking for nuance or, indeed, emotional punch. We donโt feel the โmultiplying chillsโ about which Dan Partridge, as Danny Zuko, faultlessly sings. But if the onstage passion isnโt quite โelectrifyingโ, the overall presentation is. As the closing number suggests: โthatโs the way it should beโ. Or rather โshoo-bop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boomโ.
Reviewed by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Manuel Harlan
Grease
Dominion Theatre until 29th October
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