Playwright: Jim Jacobs Warren Casey. At: American Theatre Company, 1909 W. Byron. Phone: 773-409-4125; $45-$50. Runs through: June 26
The easiest way to recreate a historical period is to focus on the extremes. This principle dictates that "teen culture" be defined by archetypes existing to this day, among them, the children of poor, parochial, disenfranchised, blue-collar immigrant families. The romanticizing of these economically-disadvantaged adolescentsin the 1950s, dubbed "greasers," as much for their unbarbered lanolin-heavy hair as for their predestined industrial-sector careersinto sensitive "rebels" was, in large part, motivated by the guilt that dogged those who escaped this ghetto, along with its teenage pregnancies (before legal abortion), school dropouts (before GEDs), and its gang-loyalty defeatism. Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey were artist/songwriters in 1970 when they wrote their homage to former high school chums whose peak years were already in decline, calling upon memories at once fond and relievedcontradictions leading to distortions growing more pronounced over time, as generational distance rendered it increasingly safe for "the way THEY were" to become "the way WE were."
American Theatre Company purports to restore the gritty homegrown edge to Jacobs and Casey's one-hit wonder, and to a substantial degree, makes good on its promise (almost TOO reverently, bringing the show's running time to just under three hours). But don't park your Suspension of Disbelief yet. The Burger Palace Boys may speak in gruuunts and the Pink Ladies in yaaaps, but they sing in the dulcet tones of health-conscious warblers with throats untouched by tobacco, two-dollar wine, or deep-fried anything. Jim Corti's dance choreography likewise leans more heavily on standard musical-comedy formations as the show progresses.
Fifty years after the fact, a little triplet-time and Duane Eddy guitar go a long way, however. Though ATC's Grease may not be as museum-grade "original" as the title proclaims, it nevertheless invokes a catalogue of nostalgic referencescivil-defense drills, Lucky Strike cigarettes, Clearasil, Polk Brothers, LOTS of street namessufficient to engulf oldsters in warm fuzzies, as well as a compendium of potty-mouth sass from grandma's day to amuse fans of the greasers' Jersey Shore descendants. Malcolm Ruhl's orchestral and vocal arrangements capture the sound of the pre-British Invasion era, but the songs that come off most authentically are the ones rooted in a cappella doo-wop harmonies, reflecting the DIY expressions of an age before Walkmen, earbuds and iPods.