Grease is the Word

AMERICA REMEMBERS the 1950s fondly: the decade which featured slick hairstyles, doo-wop rock, and an incredible surfeit of guy-meets-girl romances that captured the imaginations of Americans like no other. Winthrop House's production of Grease plays on our idealization of '50s in such a way, both affectionate and mocking, that makes it the most entertaining sock-hop this weekend.

Kudos for this surprising success abound. Michele Fitzsimmons is clearly an effective director. The show, with few exceptions, flows smoothly from scene to scene, and many jokes which could have gone unnoticed were accentuated by actors' use of voice inflection or body language. Also expert are the choreographers: Diane Mullen, Ellen Fern, and Dana Smetherman. They've turned an unusually small stage into an adequate forum for elaborate song and dance.

The lead characters, the steadies-to-be Danny and Sandy (remember John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John?), are one of the show's few weak points. The oh-so-pure Sandra Dee (Susie Glick), though competent, is not entirely convincing. Her singing generally seems a bit forced, as if she wanted to wax operatic. Likewise, her acting is perhaps too stiff for her part.

THE ASPIRING HE-MAN Danny (Joseph Giani) is adequate but lacks charisma. While he demonstrates an admirably versatile voice in "All Choked Up," he fails to project the strong, leading character his part requires. Fortunately, the play revolves around the two leads considerably less than the Travolta/Newton-John movie, and the rest of the cast is simply superlative.

Alexandra Houck is very funny as tough and cynical Betty Rizzo, a leader of the girls' clique, the Pink Ladies. Houck both sings beautifully and acts passionately. Her second-half rendition of "There are Worse Things I Could Do," about her unwanted pregnancy, imparts a genuine human touch to one of the show's more serious scenes, without which the episode could easily have become completely corny. Also a standout in a major supporting role is Ken Johnson, who plays Rizzo's more or less steady boyfriend Kenickie. His performance of "Greased Lighting," an homage to his beloved car, is one of the play's truly electric moments.

Lewis Silverman kicks out the jams as megalomaniacal and libido-crazed deejay Vince Fontaine, and Andrea Shlipak plays megaditz yearbook editor Patty Simcox with similar reckless abandon. Missy Dubroff and Michael Kelley also shine in supporting roles as clique-members Frenchy and Roger. As for the play itself, well, suffice it to say that there are few deep philosophical insights. But the script flows well and is a lot funnier than one might think, remembering the 1978 movie.

Grease is not the play to see for bardic, tear-jerking drama, but those in a lighter mood should find their way to this talented rendition of an often very funny script. Maybe there's still a bit of life in the "twist."