It's one thing to rerelease "Casablanca" or "The Godfather," but for the love of Jesus, "Grease?" Next thing you know, we'll all be buying tickets for that once-in-a-lifetime epic, "Dukes of Hazzard: The Motion Picture."
If you ever wondered what sunk John Travolta in the 1980s, all you have to do is watch "Grease" to find out. He couldn't sing. He couldn't act. He looked like the poster child for male anorexia. The current, more lardy version of Travolta at least seems healthier. Seeing him share the frame with toothpicky Olivia Newton-John in "Grease," however, would make Kate Moss feel fat enough to want to purge her breakfast celery.
And what's with the casting here? These people are supposed to be in high school, yet most of them are clearly nearing thirty. Rizzo (Stockard Channing), leader of the Pink Ladies, looks like menopause would let her in if she just knocked on the door. As for Danny (Travolta), Sandy (Newton-John) and the rest, it's like watching bad community theater and feeling embarrassed for the participants who have been stretched far beyond their capabilities.
There's a scene in which Danny tries out for the basketball team wearing an outfit so tight that psychics have been able to do scrotum readings. As poor Travolta jiggles around in his unhealthy state, it's like watching a worm trying to poke its head through a piece of plastic wrap. It kind of conveys that unpleasant, impotent, queasy sort of feeling -- just like the '70s.
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