Grease review – West End revival revs its way into the Dominion

The wholesome American Dream is taking a bit of a battering on London musical stages at present: hot on the heels of the Young Vic's seismic reinvention of Oklahoma! comes this entertaining but surprisingly hard-hitting new take on one of the most beloved musicals of all time. Director Nikolai Foster may not deliver a volte-face on the scale of what Daniel Fish has achieved with that R&H classic, but this "new" Grease is still a fascinating repointing of a work that so many people know, or think they know, like the back of their hands.

It's nearly 30 years since the previous stage version of Grease that enjoyed several revivals, tours and spawned a reality TV casting show, first set up shop at the Dominion. Anybody who caught it then and returns for this new iteration (which still has the redoubtable Dame Arlene Phillips on board as choreographer, delivering some career-best work here) is in for a triple hit of nostalgia: for 1950s America as espoused by the 1972 Broadway musical, for the 1978 movie with John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, and for that neon-edged, primary-coloured revival that triumphed at this same venue in 1993. They may also be in for a bit of a surprise.

First seen at Leicester Curve in 2019, this Grease keeps the neon but surrounds it with somewhat darker hues, both visually and spiritually, returning Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey's blockbuster to it's Chicagoan roots. The leather jacketed T-Birds gang are back to their original name of the Burger Palace Boys, and are in constant trouble with the Police, Rydell High is no longer in sunny California but in a rather less prosperous inner city, and there's a very real sense that the shiny carefree exuberance of high school is about to be extinguished forever as these working class youngsters head out into a tough and uncertain adult world.

Foster's fast-moving production makes a convincing case for the grittier elements of Jacobs and Casey's script, and doesn't shy away from tackling the now-problematic sexual politics head on. There are even shades of West Side Story in the gang scenes: the T-Birds of the movie and the last revival were randy but essentially harmless, but the Burger Palace Boys here have a troubling, potentially violent edge, especially with regard to their jawdroppingly unreconstructed attitudes to the opposite sex. The less palatable stuff has always been there of course (have you ever really listened to the lyrics to "Greased Lightning"?!) but feels more foregrounded here than usual.

The visual aesthetic bears this out. Colin Richmond's set and costumes are attractive but rooted in an unglamorous reality, while Ben Cracknell's lighting is moody and often muted, although there's an annoying tendency to blind the audience with a battery of stadium-style illumination during scene transitions.

Movie fans will be pleased to know that this revival retains the interpolation of songs written especially for the film – "Hopelessly Devoted To You", "Sandy", "Grease Is The Word" and of course "You're The One That I Want" – and they've seldom been sung better than they are here. The voices – soloists and chorus – are uniformly magnificent and Sarah Travis's musical arrangements are punchy and exciting. The sheer size of the Dominion and the amplification that requires means that there are moments when it's not always clear who's speaking during the book scenes, but few will care.

Phillips's choreography is fabulous: more character-driven than her work on the previous revival (even when exploding across the stage in rigorously drilled abandon, the company look and move like real people rather than show dancers), it's dynamic and inventive ("Greased Lightning" has had a Stomp-like makeover that brings the house down) and fills the vast stage with whirling limbs and prodigious energy.

In amongst all the high octane stuff, it's interesting how effective some quieter moments are: watch Jocasta Almgill's (possibly) pregnant Betty Rizzo quietly breaking her heart while all her friends gather on the opposite side of the stage to cheering on Jake Reynolds's endearing, guitar-strumming Doody. Or the lovely scene where teacher Miss Lynch (Corinna Powlesland, exquisite) imparts pearls of romantic wisdom to a confused pupil. The detail in these moments is refreshing and telling.