cast of Grease, Mayfield Dinner Theatre. Photo by Marc J. Chalifoux

By Liz Nicholls, 12thnight.ca

We all went to Rydell High. And none of us ever graduated.

To help support 12thnight.ca YEG theatre coverage, click here.

That’s the thing about Grease: every production of the 1972 musical by Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey is a class reunion, so to speak. Face it, You’re The One That I Want and Summer Nights have taken up permanent residency in your brain in a way that the periodic table, the subjunctive, or the plot of Beowulf never did.

“Grease is the time, is the place, is the motion,” as one of the opening numbers declares in the revival directed by Kate Ryan that’s currently running — and also leaping, bouncing, hand-jiving, twisting, doing back flips, all at a sensational rate — on the Mayfield stage. That, incidentally, is a location where it hasn’t been seen for the last 31 years. And Ryan’s cast of 18 is making up for lost time, in a go-for-the-gusto way.

Grease was always nostalgic, from its modest moment of origin (in a Chicago nightclub). And it’s a celebration and amiable spoof of the ‘50s that’s only gotten spoofier every decade since, especially after the John Travolta/ Olivia Newton movie of 1978. In the high-spirited Mayfield show, two competing planes of nostalgia intersect in the design by Lieke Den Bakker and Ivan Siemens, animated by Matt Schuurman’s cunning video design.

One is set in motion when the “kids” arrive — well, explode, dancing up a storm — into a brick inner-city courtyard, to announce that summer’s over and school’s back in. There’s urban grit in the look, but West Side Story this isn’t designed to be. The other is the fantasy that the famous soundtrack, with its heady nostalgic topnotes of young romance and angst (Raining on Prom Night), is coming at us direct from the giant car radio that dominates the stage. And it’s equipped with its own urbane conjuring genie, radio announcer Vince Fontaine (Vance Avery), with songs and worldly advice like “first day of school, play it cool.”

The costumes by Deanna Finnman are a riot of colour and crinolines, tight capris and pink satin bombers, black leather, pumps and saddle shoes. The spirit of showbiz, ‘50s nostalgia department, lives in these clothes; they’re always fun to look at. And when you see Ryan’s the cast dance and move in them, they really come into their own.

cast of Grease, Mayfield Dinner Theatre. Photo by Marc J Chalifoux

Julio Fuentes’ sexy, inventively athletic choreography — a departure from the long line of Grease productions which are considerably less demanding — captures the combination of brash exhibitionism and retreats that pretty much cuts to the chase in Grease. The plot, after all (to speak solemnly of something pretty blithe and airy), is based on the way its teen characters are torn between being their own individuals who “take no crap from nobody” (as Mark Sinongco’s Sonny LaTierri puts it) and the comfort of being part of a gang, like the T-Birds or the Pink Ladies. The choreography of peer group pressure, both the resisting of it and the succumbing to it, is the keynote of Ryan’s stagecraft too.

Take the principal love story, between hipster Danny Zuko (Kory Fulton) and the new girl in school, wholesome Sandy Dumbrowski (Kate Blackburn). Fulton’s performance is full of swagger, and uncertainty, confidence and ruefulness. His ventures into romance are always one step forward two back, with quick looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is looking.

Louise Duff (centre) and the cast of Grease, Mayfield Theatre. Photo by Marc J Chalifoux.

Uncertainty only comes later for the sardonic, apparently invincible tough cookie Rizzo, who makes even her Pink Ladies cohorts a bit nervous. She’s played with a range of mocking grins by Autumn-Joy Dames. And Trevor Coll is very funny as tough guy Kenickie, proud possessor of the broken down beater he’s christened Greased Lightning. He poses only at sharp diagonal angles and chews off every consonant like he was spitting tobacco.   

In a cast of strong singers and indefatigable dancers (Rydell is a high school of the performing arts?), the performances are fashioned in a comical mix of the cool and the sweetly earnest. May I single out Ryan Maschke as the moonstruck Roger and Jill Agopsowicz as the appealingly wide-eyed Jan, who serves Twinkies with Swiss Colony plonk because it’s “a dessert wine”? Chariz Faulmino as Frenchie, the dimbulb chronic drop-out, who got her name when she perfected “French inhaling,” is a hoot. Melissa MacPherson doubles as the cartoon purse-lipped teacher Miss Lynch, and a sultry Teen Angel who descends from the car radio to deliver her career counsel in Beauty School Dropout, surrounded by a chorus of angel cohorts in diner waitress (hey, it’s the ‘50s) uniforms.

The music values are, as always, high at the Mayfield, as led by musical director Jennifer McMillan and a band of five.

Consider if you will the hilarious manifesto of Grease authenticity: “we start believing now that we can be what we are.” Hmm. Think about that for a second or two, but not too hard. Do not ask why-y-y-y-y. It’s playful, yes, and nostalgic … about nostalgia. It good-naturedly spoofs its own kind of coming-of-age musical theatre, in an evening of high-spirited entertainment, expertly presented by a first-rate cast.

REVIEW

Grease

Theatre: Mayfield Dinner Theatre

Written by: Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey

Directed by: Kate Ryan

Starring: Kory Fulton, Kate Blackburn, Autumn-Joy Dames, Louise Duff, Vance Avery, Melissa MacPherson, Trevor Coll, Jill Agopsowicz, Ryan Maschke, Louise Duff, Ashley St. John, Mark Sinongco, Chariz Faulmino, Christine Desjardins, Cameron Chapman, Devin Alexander, Evan Taylor Benyacar, Sarah Dowling

Running: through June 16

Tickets: mayfieldtheatre.ca, 1-888-783-5076