Grease: Live! Recap: Fox Figured Out The Live TV Musical

With help from Vanessa Hudgens, Julianne Hough, and a disturbing amount of hair gel.

lcome to a needlessly in-depth recap of last night’s Grease: Live!, Fox’s first attempt at a live TV musical that instantly made all other TV musicals (perhaps excluding NBC’s The Wiz) look like High School Musical 2. Sorry, Allison Williams. You tried, girl. But Grease had everything: incredible production value, actually talented and charismatic humans (for the most part), impressively complex choreography, endless matching sweater sets, the exact amount of cheesiness and intrinsic misogyny that lends itself to relentless but good-natured mocking in recaps, thinly veiled attempts at grandfathering in some gender parity, and what was clearly some hardcore prep work on the part of the cast and crew. Let’s not waste time with pleasantries, though. We’ve got three hours of high-energy, high-camp theatrics ahead of us.

Grease kicks off with a rejected Sandals commercial, starring Julianne Hough andAaron Tveit as Two People Who Do Not Understand How To Dress For The Beach. Tveit, as Danny, is particularly misinformed about beachwear, sporting a button down and hair so squat and stiff it could stand in for Ted Cruz during his next campaign commercial. His hair is terrifying. It will haunt me for the rest of this recap and the rest of my life.

The two start making out, and it is immediately and abundantly clear: Julianne Hough and Aaron Tveit are not here for each other. Hough and Tveit have the sexual chemistry of a divorced couple putting on a good face for the judge at their son’s fourth DUI hearing.

This isn’t Hough’s fault. Hough is adorable and charming, even though the character of Sandy, as originally written, is one of the dullest in existence.


Tveit, on the other hand, a consummate Broadway dude, has somehow managed to drain all sex appeal out of the character of Danny and turned him into a surreal, cartoonish mash-up of Jimmy Neutron, Ace Ventura, and that annoying kid who got all the leads in your high-school plays because he was the only one who had actually gone through puberty. Sandy says that she’s just had the “best summer of her life” with Danny, which is extremely hard to believe considering nobody can get within four feet of his hair without passing out from the fumes. “And now I have to go back to Salt Lake,” Sandy pouts. “It isn’t fair.”

Yes, in this version of Grease, Sandy is from Salt Lake City, the home of Mormons and people explaining constantly that they’re not Mormons, they’re just from Salt Lake City. But Sandy is probably Mormon. Sandy is a virgin with strict parents who exclusively wears pre-LOFT Ann Taylor.

Faster than Danny can be like

the camera zooms away from our soon-to-be divorcees and, inexplicably, finds Jessie J, who is doing her best Pink impersonation as she sings “Grease Is The Word.” She sounds lovely, as usual; she looks a little too thirsty, as usual. Jessie walks backstage and schmoozes with the cast as they get ready. There’s Vanessa Hudgens, taking a selfie with the rest of her Pink Ladies. There are some anonymous schoolgirls that I don’t think we ever see again? There’s the studio audience that Fox decided to put in the middle of the production in the pouring rain.

A quick sidenote: We’re only three minutes in, and we’ve already seen more people of color here than were even cast in the entirety of the original Grease (which is to say, there are people of color, period). Keke Palmer is serving some cat-eye realness as Marty. Hudgens is Rizzo, in the part she was clearly born to play (Hudgens did especially well considering her father tragically died the day before—talk about professionalism). Boyz II Men are Teen Angel(s). Also, Ana Gasteyer is now part of Boys II Men, which seems like something that should’ve been true all along.


Carlos PenaVega is Kenickie, albeit with a little too much MAC Studio Fix on his face.Wendell Pierce is Coach Calhoun. Jordan Fisher, who is not Bruno Mars, is a very sexy Doody. Mario Lopez is himself, basically. The blocking of this entire scene is incredible. So many moving parts. So many golf carts. I want whoever blocked this scene to block my funeral.

The camera pans to a dramatic tableau on the front lawn of the school. Everybody is frozen in time except for the studio audience, who are stuffed into bleachers, screaming, where they will remain for the rest of their natural lives. When they die, Jessie J will escort them into the afterlife.


The bell rings and everybody runs into school like it’s just a standard Tuesday morning at Rydell High. Oh, them? Those are just the people who scream at us as we run into school. As the T-Birds babble on like the leather-clad virgins they are, Danny hits on a be-pigtailed young woman at her locker by making bad puns about science.

This is our first hint that Danny is a player who has approximately zero redeeming qualities and a head topped with toxic waste. He also has no game whatsoever, and Aaron Tveit is too old and playing it way too big for this entire thing, and all of it is making me uncomfortable. Julianne Hough deserves better. Where is Zac Efron, who is clearly the only person who could even attempt to match John Travolta’s goofy-sexy swagger? Why did he agree to film Dirty Grandpa with Julianne Hough but not Grease: Live?


Oh.

After Danny and his pals make awkward small talk about their summers (Danny, clearly a pathological liar, says he was a lifeguard, even though his hair would burst into flames if exposed to raw sunlight), they turn their attentions to Eugene, a nerdy space enthusiast who carries around posters of rockets to indicate said space enthusiasm. If only real life were this easily telegraphed! The T-Birds make a big show of stealing Eugene’s rocket poster, and Danny’s like, “Hey, guys, give him back his rocket poster.” This is the second hint that Danny is an unredeemable character, and that even the writers must have known this, as they’ve added several new plot points like this to try and make us understand why someone as goddamn adorable as Julianne Hough would want anything to do with him.

We’re introduced to the rest of the cast in quick succession, which, if but for a moment, helps me forget about Danny’s radioactive strands and personality. Gasteyer pops up as Principal McGee, shames Sonny in front of his friends, flirts with Rizzo, and disappears into her office. You’re The Worst’s Kether Donohue eats a Twinkie, because, as you’ll recall, she’s playing Jan, the one whose entire personality in the original version is “fat.” (This is another plot point the writers clearly saw as #problematic and try, weakly, to fix later in the production by changing her thing to being “weird.”) Carly Rae Jepsen’s Frenchy makes fun of Marty for vacationing in a trailer park, but then drops all of her papers in the hallway and starts talking to herself in the third person.

Sandy comes barreling into the frame, late for class. “I’m from Utah!” she screams by way of explanation to Frenchy, a person who she has never met and who is clearly busy with her own problems right now. Judging by her unimpeachable certainty that everyone finds her fascinating, her obsession with very long skirts, and the fact that my Republican dad already likes her more than me, Sandy is a burgeoning conservative, the kind of innocently right-wing teen who will grow up to own a shack full of guns and host a local cable TV show about creationism.

Moving sets—Fox spared no expense!—give way to a scene in Principal McGee’s office, where we meet Haneefah Wood’s Blanche, McGee’s assistant, who is possibly the best supporting character in this entire musical. She’s weird and delightful AF and I honestly wish somebody had handcuffed Aaron Tveit to a radiator for a few hours and forced Haneefah to fill in as Danny. McGee shares some updates about the upcoming National Bandstand dance contest and the school’s bomb-shelter program, because everybody is worried Danny’s hair is going to incite the next Chernobyl.

Back to the Pink Ladies, who are eating lunch in the gym, as one does. Sandy introduces herself and tells everybody she’s from Salt Lake, and Rizzo, who will grow up to be Ruth Bader Ginsburg, makes a barely detectable Mormon joke. Marty says, “How Jew like a cocktail down your bra?” No religion is safe on Grease: Live! We then meet Elle McLemore’s Patty Simcox, whose nerdiness is telegraphed by her glasses and ponytail,She’s-All-That style, and who is clearly dealing with some kind of cocaine habit.

Time for “Summer Nights,” in which Sandy and Danny sing about wondering what the other is doing as they stand literally right next to each other in the same gym. Is this magical realism? Is one of them a ghost? Danny’s hair continues to get shinier and harder by the minute and Julianne Hough gets more and more impressive. Who knew she could sing like this? Derek?

Suddenly and without warning, we’re presented with Mario Lopez, who throws to commercial by making an El Nino joke. Mario, Sandy doesn’t believe in global warming, so you best check yourself.

When we return to Rydell High, Sandy is explaining to her new Pink Lady friends that Danny Zuko, her summer fling, “goes to boarding school and is an honor student.” Sands thinks Danny is a Young Republican, like she is, and that the two will go on to breed eagles and sleep soundly in parallel twin beds. Frenchy tries to remind her that “life isn’t only about men.” I begin to ship Frenchy and Sandy.

Sandy tries out for the cheerleading team, putting coked-out Patty Simcox to shame with a routine that is Nazi-like in its precision (Sandy may also be a recovering Hitler Youth, one who left Salt Lake under cover of night to reevaluate her parents’ regressive politics). The audience, decaying faster than the radioactive isotopes emanating from Danny’s head, continues to watch from the bleachers.


At the subsequent pep rally, Bunk from The Wire gives a rousing speech and tries to talk about physics, forgetting that Sandy doesn’t believe in science. (“What is he talking about?” she asks her soon-to-be, temporary football-player beard, Tom.) Sandy hops off the stage mid-routine and holds hands with Frenchy for a very long time while they talk about having a sleepover. Meanwhile, outside, in a very restrained confrontation with Kenickie, Scorpion agrees that it would be dangerous to be in an enclosed space with Danny’s hair.

We’re 30 minutes in and Sandy and Danny have not yet realized they go to the same school. Rizzo, sensing the unlikeliness of this particular narrative arc, throws them together, Danny blows it by being a dick, and Sandy runs into Frenchy’s arms. Frenchy tells her men are “rats,” and the two drop out of high school, get married and open a bed and breakfast in Hawaii. I’m kidding, of course; Sandy continues to be hung up on Danny, certain she will be able to convince him to love her and, one day, vote Romney.


Sleepover time! Sandy is wearing an apron made of old oven mitts. Keke Palmer is doing her best Elizabeth Taylor in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, until suddenly she’s doing her bestDreamgirls, burning the entire production to the ground with a knockout, USO-centric performance of “Freddy My Love.” Sandy doesn’t get involved because the military is not a joke.


Sandy soon starts vomiting because of everyone’s progressive politics, and as such, everyone makes fun of her by putting on blonde Sia wigs. Vanessa Hudgens is now wearing two wigs. Regardless, she casually slays “Look At Me, I’m Sandra Dee” (Vanessa Hudgens is quickly becoming the MVP here), then shimmies down a pipe into Kenickie’s car, where the two passionately forgo a 25-cent condom. Sandy, likely furious that Rizzo would ever even consider birth control, mopes.


Barry Pearl, the original Doody, shows up as a creepy TV producer who almost hits on Marty. But Marty only has eyes for another old dude, Mario Lopez. Whatever, we don’t have time for this statutory nonsense. It’s time for “Greased Lightning,” starring Aaron Tveit and the black hole atop his head and Eve Plumb, aka Jan Brady. Everybody involved pelvic-thrusts like their lives depend on it (but not Eve Plumb). It is all fantastic and high-energy and delightful. Except, for some reason, the lyrics are changed from “the chicks will cream” to “the chicks will scream.” I assume this was Sandy’s doing.


Now everyone’s at the malt shop, where Kenickie and Scorpion have a highly unconvincing scuffle that’s broken up by Didi Conn, the OG Frenchy. She is now a waitress, which bodes poorly for beauty-school dropouts who re-enter high school and think everything is going to be fine. She is adorable, as lovely as ever, and wielding a tiny baseball bat.


Sandy’s on a date with her 45-year-old beard Tom, and continues setting the feminist movement back by insisting he give her cash to load up the jukebox. Rizzo hits on Danny. Patty continues to ride out her cocaine addiction. Danny tries to apologize to Sandy and she’s like “do sports more and we’ll talk.” Doody breaks out his guitar for a stunningly great performance of “Those Magic Changes,” oozing more sex appeal in four seconds than Danny does in three hours. Team Doody.


Now we must watch Danny do sports for a few minutes. He’s terrible at all of them, of course; even Coach Bunk thinks Danny is boring AF and is like, “go take a long walk off a short pier, I’ll time you.” Danny runs for exactly one second. Despite wearing nothing but a T-shirt and shorts, Danny sweats like he’s just eaten all of Patty’s remaining cocaine for dinner. His hair stays completely still. This wet-dry combo turns out to be something of a siren song for Sandy, who congratulates Danny for surviving his one-second run, dumps Tom within a matter of seconds and agrees to accompany Danny to the dance. Danny proceeds to have an erotically charged moment with Doody, which is completely understandable (on Danny’s part, not Doody’s).


Danny is visibly sweating from his hairline as everyone hangs out at the malt shop again. Danny and Sandy argue over which one of them is funny. Neither is particularly funny. It’s revealed that a hot dog costs 23 cents, which is two cents less than a single condom. Frenchy expresses doubt about her recent decision to drop out of beauty school to OG Frenchy, and I’m not crying and air-hugging Didi Conn, you’re crying and air-hugging Didi Conn. Boyz II Men soon show up to serenade Frenchy judgmentally. It’s all completely pitch-perfect (minus Jepsen’s new original song, which precedes “Beauty School Dropout” and is…not great).


We’re now almost 2/3 of the way in, and it’s finally National Bandstand time. Next-level choreography aside, things get a little weird in this scene: the writers shoehorn in a plot about Sandy having a phobia of cameras so that Danny ditching her for Cha Cha and subsequently winning the dance contest isn’t as outright dickish as it otherwise would be. Stop trying to make Danny happen, writers.

Joe Jonas, wearing Justin Bieber’s hair, serenades everyone with a near-suicidal level of seriousness. Rizzo dresses up like the dancing-girl emoji and promptly murders the dance floor. Sandy wears a low-key wedding dress, but storms out because vanity is a sin. Danny is still sweating from his run. Mario Lopez hits on Marty and it’s gross.


Now we’re outside what’s apparently Sandy’s house, which is gigantic and blue. K, so Sandy did not need Tom’s cash for the jukebox. Julianne Hough owns the hell out of “Hopelessly Devoted,” proving herself a true triple threat. I want Sandy, Doody, Frenchy, and Rizzo to start a Mormon family back in Utah. The only thing missing from this scene is the water in Sandy’s kiddie pool. The only thing sadder than a kiddie pool is an empty kiddie pool.


Cut to the drive-in scene. It’s been a week since Danny vaguely gaslighted Sandy at the dance, so he makes it up to her by giving her a ring, then punching her in the boob, then trying to mount her in public. What Does Sandy See In Danny, Part 900. Sandy storms off again, and Danny sings “Sandy,” in which he wonders why Sandy stormed off again. Um.


The gender politics of this musical continue to give me pause. (But like, not that much pause, because I once watched my mom play Frenchy in a version of Grease put on by her suburban gym and, later, a pregnant Dorothy in a riff on The Wizard Of Oz called The Wizard Of Bods.) Anyway. Elsewhere, Rizzo tells Marty she’s pregnant, Marty blows up her spot instantly, and Frenchy makes a bad Netflix joke.

We’re now approaching the arguable climax of the film: The Thunder Road race. Danny and Kenickie share a tender moment fraught with sexual tension, and for a brief moment, Danny is likable.


Sandy’s progressive liberal nightmare, Eugene, shows up to science the shit out of the car to make sure Kenickie wins the race. Soon, Danny will knock out Kenickie so that he can race instead. It’s fine. Danny can race. He’s great at sports. Is racing a sport? What day is it? Who hid Mario Lopez?

Things remain topsy-turvy, sexual-politics-wise, in the next scene. Sandy stands up for Rizzo after coke-fiend Patty mocks her for being pregnant, even though Sandy is a Full Pilgrim. Sandy’s like, “You’re unappealing!” This is what people say in Salt Lake City before they sentence someone to death. Vanessa Hudgens makes a final bid for MVP with her rendition of “There Are Worse Things I Could Do.” She nails Rizzo’s body language, hits every note, and manages to project vulnerability and rad bitch vibes at the same time. Vanessa Hudgens has come a long way since High School Musical 2.


We’re nearing the end of Grease: Live! and the end of time itself. It’s Thunder Road race time, and, oh, what a race it is, in that it is not a race whatsoever. Danny and Scorpion keep their hands at 10 and 2 and don’t actually drive anywhere. They just sort of rest comfortably next to each other while surrounded by lots of flashing lights. It’s fabulous and theater-y in a way that fits Tveit (finally).


Danny wins the non-race and gives Eugene his jacket, deeming him an official T-Bird. Eugene will soon quit rocket science and join Danny in a life of mediocrity and casual misogyny. Sandy, watching from the wings, realizes being a hardcore conservative comes from a place of fear, and decides she’s ready to wear more American Apparel and attend more indoor carnivals.

As fate would have it, the next day happens to be Indoor Carnival Day. Kenickie expresses concern that Rizzo is hula-hooping, an activity he calls “dangerous.” Rizzo admits that she is not actually pregnant, and then literally everyone just starts making out with whoever is next to them. Danny, wearing a Young Republican sweater, admits out loud that he is “boring.” Even so, and somewhat disappointingly, Grease: Live! doesn’t really alter the patently sexist ending from the original film: Sandy shows up in her shiny leggings, having changed her entire personality just for Danny, who doesn’t even have the decency to admit that his hair is a known biohazard and threat to national security.


After a cheerful, loose, “I can’t believe we pulled this off” rendition of “We’ll Always Be Together,” Sandy and Danny and the rest of the gang drive off into the light rain on golf carts, one of which almost tips over. The live studio audience, still in their bleacher seats, where they will live out their remaining days, roars with bloodlust. We’ll meet them again soon, somewhere beneath or atop the 20-foot illuminated cross that will star in Fox's next musical, The Passion, a biblical spectacle of epic proportions produced by Tyler Perry.