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GreaseBrooks Atkinson Theatre
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![]() Some would disagree. In the second row of the Brooks Atkinson Theatre sat a mother and a little girl, about six or seven years old. The child was beaming, sometimes glancing around to see if everyone else was having as good a time as she was. She gave every song a standing ovation. I was not as thrilled. Maybe I've seen the show and film too often, including the first time in 1972, but except for the eternal longing to belong, it all seems dated, decorated with everything '50s from poodle skirts, three-D glasses, burger joints and hair in rollers. This time around, as everyone knows, viewers chose the leads through an NBC television reality show. Max Crumm won the role of Danny Zuko and Laura Osnes got Sandy Dumbrowski, having survived the weekly audition and proving they can sing, dance and act effectively enough. Not that you would consider these roles particularly nuanced. Danny is a stereotypical greaser of the day, the leader of the pack. Sandy is a "good girl" although at the end she proves she can peel off the layers, reveal her inner "bad girl", and therefore win back Danny. Supporting roles center on The Pink Ladies, like Rizzo who plays around and Frenchie, the dippy high school dropout. Danny leads the T-Birds, with Doody, Sonny and Roger. The plot hinges on Sandy and Danny, who recently enjoyed a summer fling but now since they are both at Rydell High, Danny shuns Sandy because she's a square. The cool Pink Ladies give her a tough time at first and Sandy has a hard time making friends. In his heart of hearts, of course, Danny loves Sandy but cannot show it until her transformation, inspiring the ensemble's kinetic, "You're the One That I Want." This undeniably fragile plot is tucked between songs. Osnes is pretty and has a lovely voice with compelling shadows, though it lacks power. Her downside is acting. Singing "Hopelessly Devoted to You," the Olivia Newton-John hit taken from the film, she shows no hopeless devotion, singing the song but not feeling it. Understandable enough because Osnes and Max Crumm share no chemistry at all. Maybe it's not fair to say Crumm is no John Travolta, but he isn't. Crumm lacks the magnetism, the raw sexiness Zuko needs. It is hard to believe that Crumm would be leader of a pack of urban sidewalk cowboys, and Matthew Saldivar (The Wedding Singer), who plays his sidekick, Kenickie, exudes more of the necessary blend of irresistible braggadocio. Another cast problem is age. It has been long since the supporting cast has seen its teen years, although they move with enthusiasm. Notable is Jennie Powers as Rizzo bravely singing, "There Are Worse Things I Could Do," when she finds she is pregnant. Roger (Daniel Everidge) and Jan (Lindsay Mendez) portray a likeable teen romance, and Allison Fischer does her best as the unpopular, one-dimensional, super-virgin, Patti, who has her eye on Danny. Jamison Scott is a slick dancer, playing goody two-shoes, Eugene Forczyk. Miss Lynch, the tight-laced schoolmistress (Susan Blommaert), and self-admiring radio host Vince Fontaine (Jeb Brown), are predictable. Always good for a laugh is the Teen Angel (Stephen R. Buntrock), emerging from what looks like a silver casket to help the downtrodden Frenchie with "Beauty School Drop-Out." The lively Grease Band is positioned high above the stage, with conductor/synthesizer, Kimberly Grisby, drawing attention with rhythmic moves. Derek McLane designed comical colorful sets, and costume designer, Martin Pakledinaz was era-perfect, especially his skintight getup for Sandy's emergence from kitten to cat woman, but what happened to seamed stockings? Director Kathleen Marshall keeps a crisp pace, going nowhere. Once the music stops, so does the momentum. Her choreography never lacks energy, especially in "Born to Hand-Jive," but it does lack excitement. The original songs by Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey are spirited and catchy, and additional songs are taken from the film version. Despite this, there is a line down 47th Street waiting to get tickets. It doesn't say much to suggest that its teen audience might instead consider Legally Blonde, which at least has more to say, or Xanadu, which provides giggles. Elizabeth Ahlfors |
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