Book, Music & Lyrics by Jim Jacobs & Warren Casey

Directed by Katie Renton

Tickets

Yeah, so, we’ll take a dozen hamburgers, three strawberry milkshakes, a pack of smokes, a couple of diet cokes – oh, and a side order of teenage angst, tight trousers, and killer tunes. Hold the onions.

That’s right, returning to Church Hill Theatre, Allegro musical theatre brings another sensational hit to Edinburgh. And this time, in the form of Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey’s much-loved Grease. And despite the gap in time between Grease’s setting and the present day, one thing remains identical: just how block-headed guys can be.

Radiating a slick-haired appeal, Greg McCafferty Thomson’s Danny just cannot admit to his peers (and the other girls) that he’s smitten with the charming and perfectly cast Zoe Brookes as Sandy. Together, they offer an adorable dynamic as one of cinema’s most identifiable pairs. Finding harmony in their performances and vocals the duo may be the centre-point of the story but represent an entire cast pulling out all the stops to deliver a bouncingly brilliant production with oodles of fantastic side characters and surprises.

So, while Danny broods with the greasers over some car tyres and gang fights (featuring an exceptionally well-choreographed Greased Lightin’), Sandy tries to find a place with the Pink Ladies, a group consisting of Frenchy, Jan, Marty, and leader – Rizzo. Brookes brings in a strong performance as Sandy, showcasing all of the awkward teenage confusions as Sandy fends off unwanted sexual advances, and initially rejects the peer-pressured call for drinks and cigarettes. But while arguing over the continuous issues with the script may seem outdated, Brookes does capture the anxiety Sandy has with fitting in, and the battle between new feelings and identities colliding with upbringing.

But they also benefit from a thoroughly engaging and deeply enjoyable group of gal pals surrounding them as the Pink Ladies. Not the most fleshed out of roles (but just wait until you meet the lads), Allegro manages to impart so much character into every performer that it’s truly commendable. From the fierce and immediate space-controlling Sally Carins to the more timid but expressive and apt comedy of Anna Spence as Jan, initially, it seems Imogen Wright draws the short straw as Frenchy (wholly the script’s fault). That is, until their solo Beauty School Drop Out, which offers Imogen the time to grow the role and draw out vulnerabilities.

Now, the lads. The Burger Place Boys. With all the subtlety of, well, shades and a leather jacket, you cannot help but love them. From McCafferty Thomson’s ring-leader Danny to Joe Purcell’s more compassionate Doddy, like Andrew Hally’s pleasant comedy and chemistry with Spence, and even the sleazy try-hard Sonny, played with plenty of authentically skin-crawling, but still humourous, gusto by Sean Vannet. But kicking out above the testosterone is Alasdair Davison as Kenickie, who often delivers the strongest vocals throughout the evening – including leading into the finale. Vocals which, unfortunately, are overpowered by the orchestra pit below them – an issue which does pop its head up through the performance.

Now let’s get something straight (ironically). Grease is such a queer-coded musical, so bouncing with masculine overcompensating and the ‘ideal’ American woman, that the entire production loops right around the hetero-graph. So, it’s always nice to see inclusions from Allegro and Renton and a sense of natural character evolution and inclusion, as Dominic Lewis’ performance of Eugine, a friend of the Pink Ladies, often seen with Fiona Scott’s overly enthused Patty. It culminates from an ensemble role with bright and vibrant energy into a touching moment with Robbie Noble as they pair off, Lewis sporting a Pink Lady jacket, an adorable nod from Rebecca Drever’s Rizzo, and the rest of the gals. It’s maybe ten seconds, but it’s an important ten seconds for many in the audience. 

And what a leader of the pack. De-facto leader of the Pink Ladys, Drever’s Rizzo is as integral to Grease’s success as Danny or Sandy. Served with style, enough attitude to flatten any high-school adversary, and their signature control and superb vocals, Drever is always a stamp of quality for any Allegro piece. Even as their initial solo Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee delivers a cutting and contemptuous Rizzo with a slice of humour – bordering on antagonistic, Drever captures a sincere frailty to the now young woman, realising the responsibilities of life can creep up faster than we expect – rounding out into There are Worse Things I Could Do which captures as much of the role as Stockard Channing did all those years ago.

In a rare turn of events, Allegro’s Grease may be the only production which aids in the audience losing calories, as Felicity Halfpenny’s choreography thunders such energy and life into the crowd that it’s impossible not to find your arms and legs jiving with the best of them, with dance captains Laura Green (who turned in a spectacular lead in Legally Blonde last year) and Stephanie Knowles who align the cast into synchronised enjoyment. Rarely has Grease looked, or moved this good. From elongated and precise leg stomps to somehow managing to make hand jiving cool once more, Grease may be renowned for its voice, but Halfpenny and crew remind us of those long, talented legs behind all that denim and leather.

A lot is going on in this musical, and though Renton and the Allegro team do a tremendous job in ensuring a smooth-running order, some elements feel off in their pacing. Moments which should possibly carry heftier weight or drama, are passed by relatively without notice or gravitas. But the aesthetics are nailed from the off – Scenic Projects set pieces strike out with George Cort’s miraculously gentle lighting, for a show with so much pizazz and fashion provided by Kate Dixon.

They make up for many of the shortcomings, as do a slew of ensemble roles and dedication precision from the forty-strong cast. Even those with minor scenes nail the tone and quality – none more so than Mark Wilson’s teen angel, propelling Frenchy’s solo to new heights. Equally, whenever the trio of Lyndsey McGhee, Eilidh Todd, and Paris Afshar pop up as the Radio Gals, you know that something brilliant is about to happen.

They say that (Greased) lighting never strikes twice, but continuously Allegro spark up the stage and deliver quality productions time and again. With so much going on across Edinburgh, it would be easy to overlook Church Hill Theatre and the Allegro crowd. Which would be your first mistake. Grease matches its passionate crew with precise choreography and some stand-out vocals which keep the audience thrilled right through to the end.