The theater was packed. Some of the guys were wearing black leather jackets, and of them, a few took the time to slick back their hair. Some of the girls had jackets of their own, only they were pink. They were deeply involved in every song, clapping in time, tapping their feet, swaying their bodies, standing up and applauding – there were a few select moments when a couple of people ran up and down the aisle steps, which must have given them quite a workout considering the fact that they were singing with the characters up on the screen. I never thought I would see the day when “Grease” would become an audience participation film like “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”; the fans, God bless them, are hopelessly devoted, and they don’t mind letting everyone else know it.
 
For me, that only deepens the mystery of “Grease Sing-A-Long,” a new version of the film that displays the song lyrics as well as an assortment of amusing digital doodles. If the film is being rereleased strictly for the fans, and if the fans already know the songs by heart, then what is the point of displaying the lyrics? I promise you that the enthusiasm of the audience I sat with had nothing to do with the projected words; it was merely a love of the film itself. Have you ever attended a midnight “Rocky Horror” screening? It’s a communal thing, a social thing, an excuse to dress outrageously and shout obscenities at the screen. Did anyone ever suggest that, by creatively projecting the song lyrics, the experience would somehow be enhanced? Of course they haven’t. That’s because they know it wouldn’t.
 
Once “Grease Sing-A-Long” is released on DVD, that communal experience will be gone, and only then will fans finally realize that the lyrics and digital enhancements do little more than unnecessarily clutter the picture. I could no longer focus on the characters, the story, the visuals as they were originally intended, or the meaning of the songs – I was being distracted by virtual wordiness, like a karaoke machine hopped up on steroids. I’ve been notoriously open-minded about the Special Editions of the “Star Wars” trilogy, and I remain so to this day, which, believe me, hasn’t won me a place in some people’s hearts. But rereleases like “Grease Sing-A-Long” help me to understand why so many were against the idea. The filmmaker’s original vision has been compromised. The visual enhancements really don’t enhance anything. It’s just a gimmick.
 
Consider the updates made to “There Are Worse Things I Could Do”; each line of lyrics droop at the corners like frowny faces, and little cartoon teardrops spill from Stockard Channing’s eyes. When she says the word “trashy,” a big sign displaying the same word suddenly flashes on the screen, and there’s a big arrow pointed directly at her. A similar thing happens when she says, “I suppose it could be true.” With all this going on, will anyone still be able to take in the song’s meaning? Will they still feel the emotional turmoil plaguing Channing’s character, knowing she has a bad reputation amongst her peers? I, like everyone else, stared helplessly at the visual treatments, and yet, when the song was over, I felt as if I had missed something.

I will not describe the enhancements made to every song, but rest assured, they’re all about as distracting as they were for Channing’s number. In some cases they were even more distracting, especially during the numbers with heavy choreography. “Greased Lightning” is an exercise in dancing around an issue, since it’s apparently okay to sing a dirty word but not to show it in lyrical form. Let’s just say that one specific reference requires the drawing of a cat, while another one requires the drawing of a cow.
 
I don’t think “Grease” is a bad film at all. I have always liked the chemistry between John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, the former playing a greaser caricature, the latter playing a wholesome good girl. I have always enjoyed the songs, especially “Summer Nights,” “We Go Together,” and “You’re the One That I Want.” My issue isn’t with the film itself – it’s with how it was visually altered. If you want to rerelease the film, that’s perfectly fine. But rerelease it as it originally was; don’t ruin the experience with projected lyrics and cute animated figures. Not only are they completely unnecessary, they also take attention away from the quality of the songs. When it comes to “Grease Sing-A-Long,” some may be hopelessly devoted, but I’m not.
 
One note of interest: Despite the content being exactly the same, the film’s rating has changed from PG to PG-13, the MPAA having lately been hung up on issues like “teen smoking” and “sexual references.” Granted, the PG-13 rating didn’t exist back in 1978, and considering the film’s more suggestive moments, maybe that’s what it deserves. Keep in mind, however, that PG-13 did exist in 1998, and yet the film retained its original PG rating when it was rereleased for its twentieth anniversary. Couple that with the fact that, in those days, a movie trailer didn’t have to earn a green band by digitally erasing cigarettes. The trailer for “Grease Sing-A-Long,” which has a green band, removes the cigarettes from two iconic shots, one of Travolta turning to the camera and smiling, the other of Newton-John first arriving in her new all-black get up. Nothing has been achieved except making them both look odd, their movements and expressions tied to an object that’s no longer there.

- Chris Pandolfi

 

  

As for the original Grease:

 

Because I was born in the 1980s, I obviously have no real understanding of 1950s youth culture, apart from what I’ve seen in movies – which, from what I’ve heard, was largely fabricated for the sake of entertainment. “Grease,” an adaptation of the Warren Casey and Jim Jacobs Broadway musical, opens with John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John frolicking on the beach while “Love is a Many Splendored Thing” sweeps into the soundtrack; we know then that it’s a movie about young love in the ‘50s, although it very quickly becomes obvious that what it presents is highly idealized. “Grease” is not as innocent as earlier teen musicals such as “Bye Bye Birdie,” but at the same time, it’s not a lurid or dramatic expose, as “Rebel without a Cause” was. It exists in that gray zone between innocence and delinquency, and while that may make it accessible, I can’t help but feel that something more substantial was sacrificed along the way.
 
Perhaps it’s a lack of character authenticity, most of the actors looking and sounding too old to believably be high school kids. It could also be the way it handles very real topics like teen pregnancy, gang violence, peer pressure, academic achievement (or lack thereof), and social status; they’re all mentioned to one degree or another, and yet it all seems distant and sterilized, most likely in an effort for the film to appeal to a broader audience. Travolta’s character in particular is oddly drawn, entertaining as a greaser caricature but lacking any real depth. Not even his misguided efforts to woo the wholesome and naïve Newton-John character resonates that strongly, for there’s never all that much at stake – save for the fact that he’s “cool” and she’s “pure.”
 
Still, the movie is great fun – bright, lively, humorous, and brimming with catchy songs, some written exclusively for the film to accommodate Newton-John’s casting (a change from the Broadway show, which didn’t feature a character from Australia). I’m particularly fond of “Summer Nights,” “We Go Together,” and “You’re the One That I Want,” the latter of which I still enjoy listening to on the radio. The high school dance sequence is wonderful entertainment, not only because Sha Na Na sings a rousing rendition of “Born to Hand Jive,” but also because we can practically feel the energy surging from the principal characters as they dance. Director Randal Kleiser wisely structures this sequence as more than a display of revelry; it’s also a hotbed of jealousy, competition, suspicion, and general teenage tomfoolery.

  
 
The plot follows several characters through their senior year at the fictional Rydell High School. Travolta and Newton-John play Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsen, who fell in love during the summer but are now struggling, mostly due to Danny’s macho image as the leader of a jacket-clad gang called the T-Birds. Danny’s old flame, Rizzo (Stockard Channing), is the leader of her own gang, the Pink Ladies, and is now dating Danny’s best friend, tough-talking Kenickie (Jeff Conaway). The other T-Birds – Doody (Barry Pearl), Sonny (Michael Tucci), and Putzie (Kelly Ward) – date their respective Pink Ladies counterparts – Frenchy (Didi Conn), Marty (Dinah Manoff), and Jan (Jamie Donnelly). They navigate their way through the complexities of relationships, gang rivalries, beauty schools, drive-in theaters, malt shops, and car racing, all while maintaining that reliable image of 1950s nostalgia.
 
Of all the characters, the best developed is Rizzo, tough on the outside but still capable of feeling, especially when rumors of her reputation start spreading around school. She’s also well aware of Danny’s shortcomings: “Unless you got wheels and a motor,” she tells Sandy, “he won’t know you’re alive.” Sandy seems to understand what Rizzo is telling her, and that brings me to what I feel is the film’s biggest weakness: Its final message. Based on what we’re shown, it seems the filmmakers are telling us that, in order to achieve true happiness, you must be willing to transform yourself into someone you’re not. Not only is this uninspiring, it’s also in bad taste.
 
All the same, I’ve got to hand it to the cast and crew – they sure do know how to keep an audience hooked. “Grease,” while hardly perfect, is great entertainment from start to finish, a cheerful and fun-filled film that’s nice to look at and even nicer to listen to. It’s also wonderfully nostalgic, even if it doesn’t quite capture the campy naïveté earlier teen musicals were known for (the only exception is a fantasy sequence featuring Frankie Avalon as Frenchy’s guardian angel). Then again, it also lacks the stark seriousness of films about wild teens in a state of moral decay. It has been sanitized both ways. Regardless, I will always appreciate this film as a song-and-dance spectacle. Considering the fact that I’m woefully ignorant of the 1950s (through no fault of my own), that’s about all I can ask for.

- Chris Pandolfi

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