Grease Is Here to Play
“Grease” Starring John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John and Stockard Channing. Produced by Allan Carr Directed by Randal Kleiser. Choreographed by Patricia Birch. Rating PG. Running Time: 110 minutes. In area theaters
By Joe Baltake
NEW YORK No more cracks about Allan Carr, please. After “Grease” you’ll be referring to him as “The Arthur Freed of the 70s,” and rightfully so we’ve got Allan to thank for a big splashy movie musical that leaps jumps, jitterbugs and occasionally settles down to tell a giddy story.
Carr, Hollywood’s favorite bon vivant and entrepreneur, recently screened his movie here, rocking and rolling his audience until we felt like Dorothy and Toto caught up in that wonderful tornado. Get ready for some long-overdue summer madness.
“Grease” of course, is that popular “golden oldies” celebrating of the “505, zooming in on the boss teens of Rydell High (class of 59) and particularly on those razin’, bitchin’, moonin’ J.Ds who run the place the T-Birds and their Pink Ladies.
ON STAGE,It was a series of delightfully raunchy vignettes about black leather jackets and chinos, the Stroll and the Hand Jive, drive-ins and pajama parties, smoking and wine chugging, Sandra Dee and Annette, and girls who get in trouble.
Not much has changed now that “Grease” has gone Hollywood. It’s been cleaned up, of course, and stretched across a Panavision screen. And, while Carr and his adapter, Bronte Woodard, have wrestled with giving it a plot,” it’s still essentially a series of vignettes.
Their plot is one of those off-again, on-again, everything-comes-out-okay-in-the-end teen romances. John Travolta as Danny Zuko, and Olivia Newton-John as Sandy Olsson, are the handsome, star-crossed lovers who break up (and make up) at least a dozen times during their senior year at Rydell High.
It’s not great storytelling, it’s not supposed to be “Grease” stubbornly refuses to take itself seriously and, unlike most films these days, moves unpretentiously. The film sets us up for nothing except songs, songs and more songs.
WHAT CARR AND COMPANY have done is to cut out all the boring stuff that plagues most musicals and keep in the numbers. The result is not so much a film translation of the stage play, as a tribute to brainless old musicals.
Instead of slavishly following the show’s stage blueprint, Carr has pirated ideas from old Hollywood film clips: When Olivia sings “Helplessly Devoted”, for example, it’s like something out of Debbie Reynolds “Tammy and the Bachelor”. When Travolta croons “Greased Lightning,” it’s pure Elvis.
“Grease” is also a valentine to our weakness for junk food. It’s a movie equivalent of the Walgreen special It’s a double malted, a deluxe hamburger and an order of catsup drenched fries, all done up in the form of vitamin-injected actors who jump with song, dance and ingratiating enthusiasm. Its sunny skies are bright, and its colorful sets are even brighter. You’ll feel absolutely gorged afterwards.
THERE ARE ANY NUMBER of treasurable episodes in “Grease” newcomer all Randal Kleiner’s straightforward direction (no upside-down camera work here); fill Butler’s smooth cinematography, and Pat Birch’s highkicking, ligament straining choreography.
For openers, consider John Wilson’s animated credits, which play like a speed course in 50s trivia, a high school dance, notable for its realistically chaotic and unrehearsed feel; the deadpan hilarity of Travolta’s drive-in rendition of “Sandy,” Stockard Channing who, as tough girl Rizzo, stops the show with “There Are Worse Things I Could Do”, and cameo player Edd Byrnes, who nearly steals the show as a Dick Clark-type TV emcee.
There’s no doubt, however, that the movie belongs to Travolta and Olivia, who pull it all together with style, professionalism, rapport and movie star good looks-all enough to make us forget the weak script and the fact that they (as well as the others in the cast) are a trifle too old for their roles. John will win his way into your heart with his strutting, shrugging and dese-dem-dose phraseology. Olivia will have you pining nostalgically for the unappreciated charm and innocence of Sandra Dee.
“Grease” is loud and garish and cheerful. It isn’t subtle and might not appeal to everybody. But I don’t care about everybody. I had a ball and, even after gorging myself, felt just great.
Note in Passing Following every showing of “Grease, there will be a trailer for the stage edition, still on Broadway. Nice idea.
Some playful sex talk and double entendres in “Grease.” Little else to offend. A good family film.