Left – Aaron Robuck, Brendan Xavier, Doron Chester, Temujin Tera, Timothy Shead and Jason Mobbs-Green. Cover – Grease Company. Photos – Michael FrancisGrease is the word… but probably is not the word that you’ve heard before. It does, however, most definitely have groove and meaning.
The moniker declaring this to be “The Original” Grease is something of a misnomer, yet is also undoubtedly the most concise and marketable way of rebranding the strangely hybridised recreation of a never-truly-was show that this actually represents. Especially when one considers the long and rather complex history behind not only this production, but the multifaceted textual and cultural evolution of what we have come to think of as Grease, being one of the most popular modern musicals of the last 45 years.
The version of Grease which most people are likely to be familiar with is the 1978 movie, memorably starring John Travolta, Stockard Channing, and “our Olivia” Newton-John. Even if you have seen one of the many stage productions, chances are that it hewed closely to this film incarnation, which had undergone many changes of character, subplot, tone and especially songs from the 1972 Broadway debut, let alone the very first 1971 run in Chicago, where the story was originally set, as it was semi-autobiographically conceived by co-creator Jim Jacobs.
While the bulk of the story and characters remain very recognisable across these different iterations, there are considerable differences that may take an unprepared viewer aback, be they either a casual or committed fan of the film or later movie-derived productions. The advertising blurbs make some mileage out of describing this “original” staging as being “raw, raunchy and risqué… unlike any version you’ve seen before”, in pointed comparison to the relatively sanitised later incarnations. This is true, although arguably not in as stark a contrast as one might expect if, like many Generation Xers and older Millennials, you may have recently revisited the film for the first time in a while and found it a lot more suggestive and politically incorrect than as remembered from youthful exposure. While the crude language is certainly more explicit in this version, the underlying themes of conflicting sexual expectations, double standards amongst randy teens, and subplots of fumbling romance and teen pregnancy all seem to be portrayed in largely the same fashion.
More striking, perhaps, will be how different the score here actually is. To anyone for whom their memories of Grease are as much about the soundtrack and musical set-pieces as an actual narrative, they will very likely be shocked to hear just how little of this musical is familiar in terms of its songs. Gone are the iconic standards such as “Summer Nights”, “You’re the One that I Want”, and, astoundingly, “Grease is the Word” itself. While several major numbers remain, including “Greased Lightning”, “Beauty School Drop Out” and a rather splendid a cappella version of “We Go Together” (albeit at the end of Act I rather than the conclusion of the show), many of the songs will be completely unfamiliar.
What is perhaps so fascinating about this, however, is that several are identifiably the earlier versions of the now more familiar numbers that were introduced either in the later Broadway run or the movie, serving the same narrative function and musically punctuating the same thematic beats, yet with completely different lyrics and tunes. These include for example the titular “Grease” in place of “Grease is the Word”, or “All Choked Up” prefiguring “You’re the One that I Want.”
So, on a certain level, this production is the servant of two audiences. It needs to be an intrinsically entertaining and cohesive staging for anyone who has never seen any other version of Grease, yet a large part – one might even say the main thrust of its marketable point of distinction – is as almost a kind of meta-show, a self-consciously rougher antecedent version of a more familiar, frankly more polished and mainstream hit musical. On that level, this is almost like a form of theatrical archaeology, an attempt at a kind of living theatrical museum piece, conceptually akin to the Globe Theatre’s “traditional” faux-Elizabethan productions. In that regard this is a fascinating revival, as the ephemeral nature of the stage naturally precludes the ability to view former productions and earlier iterations of notable works, apart from rare instances of stage footage that rarely captures the live experience.
All that said, however, it is perhaps important to return to the aforementioned fact that The Original Grease presented here is not truly the straightforward recreation of Grease as it first appeared to which its title would seemingly lay claim. Squabbalogic, having earned a reputation as one of our most intriguing smaller local companies for producing offbeat and underappreciated musicals such as Reefer Madness and Carrie, has taken as its text a new 2010 version first staged in its hometown of Chicago, which is, in truth, something of a Frankensteinian hodge-podge of archival material. Drawn together by director PJ Papparelli and the musical’s original writer Jim Jacobs, it combines content from the 1972 Broadway production, the very first 1971 Chicago production, as well as material that was cut even before that initial season, while in turn adding revised orchestration and an entirely new solo for Danny Zuko.
So, while it is clear that the intent behind this new throwback version of Grease is to re-create the late-‘50s grungy, urban, working-class Midwestern origins of the story that eventually was made into a more glossy cypher of generic Americana by Hollywood – yet a faithful re-staging of the truly “original” musical as it actually first appeared, however, it is not.
Squabbalogic’s presentation is, like most of their output, modest by the standards of big imported franchise productions, yet seems quite fitting for the intimate, grimy design of this once humble backblocks teen romp that eventually became a blockbuster. With a set that looks equal parts abandoned factory and rundown public school gymnasium, the production design is minimalist yet has a lot of patina, and the costuming is loud and suitably tasteless – probably more risqué than would have been period-accurate, yet evoking the oversexed rough-and-tumble mood of the Greaser Gangs and Pink Ladies that populate it. With the orchestra dominating a good chunk of the stage space, Jay James-Moody’s direction and Simone Sallé’s choreography may not be especially ambitious, but more than adequately effect the transitions of the story’s many shifts in location without relying on scenic effects.
More impressive is their marshalling of the diverse cast of characters, who exude a genuine chemistry in populating their respective bickering gangs of preening girls and posturing boys with equal parts clammy camaraderie and mercurial malice. Although a little uneven as individuals, the cast of young performers with varying levels of prior experience do manage to gel particularly well as an ensemble, such that some of the big group numbers are genuinely electric when they hit. Of particular note are Jason Mobbs-Green as the mooning-addicted “Rump” Roger, Daniella Mirels as Frenchy the failed beautician, Doron Chester as the endearingly schmucky Miller, Matilda Moran as Patty the lovelorn cheerleader. However the highest praise goes to Coral Mercer-Jones as an especially good, vivaciously acidic and suitably sassy Rizzo, and one of the few in the cast to strongly impress with a solo number.
The Original Grease is a bit of an oddball show, all told, but pleasingly so. It is a little rough around the edges and has an unfinished quality to it, much like the rebellious teenagers from the northwest side of Chicago it portrays. But, like these characters, the production has a lot of verve and heart, and is determined to revel with a certain brazen assuredness in its own identity. For anyone interested in the processes of adaptation and revision it serves as a fascinating curio of theatrical history, yet should also be highly entertaining to anyone who likes a good retro teen musical, provided they are not overly wedded to the later version that has come to dominate the wider public perception of the notionally canonical Grease.
Squabbalogic presents
THE ORIGINAL GREASE
Director Jay James-Moody
Venue: Seymour Centre | Corner of City Rd and Cleveland St, Chippendale NSW
Dates: 6 April – 7 May, 2016
Tickets: $59 – $30
Bookings: www.seymourcentre.com | (02) 9351 7940
