First Night: Grease, Piccadilly Theatre, London

You could argue that London's West End, already overrun by musicals, needs another tuner about as badly as Las Vegas needs another casino. And, apart from the cast, this revamped revival of Grease boasts essentially the same team responsible for the production which opened in 1993, ran for six years and only recently finished touring. It's been given another lease of (improved) life, of course, through the reality TV search for Danny and Sandy. Grease is the Word may have been defeated in its ratings battle with Any Dream Will Do, but it certainly seems to have acted as a pretty effective commercial. The show has taken £8m in advance bookings. Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, a Broadway production, with leads cast by a similar public voting method and sharing a producer in the shape of David Ian, is due to open later this month.

That's the unendearing twist to these reality TV competitions. To get the ratings they have to choose musicals that hardly need television exposure to be theatrical hits. The Sound of Music, Joseph and Grease are not exactly nail-biting commercial gambles, especially given that The Sound of Music is the only one of the three to be presented here in a production reconceived from scratch. It's good that these shows pull in people new to theatre; but it's less good that there isn't more spirit of adventure.

Admittedly, it's hard to resist the appeal of Grease - a hymn to teenage horniness, set in a parodic Seventies view of a cheekily tweaked B-movie-style Fifties high school. The excellent band deliver the joyously affectionate Jim Jacobs/Warren Casey rock'n'roll spoofs (here augmented by the additional songs from the 1978 movie) with terrific punch. But David Gilmore's production seems to have suffered from the Chinese Whispers syndrome. It's now at so many removes from any real truth about 1950s style that it's like a grotesque, hyperactive animated cartoon. The grittiness, charm and humanity of the piece have got lost in a slick, neon-lit, and soulless theatrical neverland.

What about the competition-winning leads? Is the power they're supplyin' electrifyin'? Not really. As chief greaser Danny, Danny Bayne exudes a certain sex appeal and he sings and dances with more than efficiency but the performance lacks the attractiveness of natural humour. When his Danny shifts from unguarded emotion to strutting macho defensiveness, you can always hear a kind of mechanical click. Though she can float a mean decorative falsetto in "Hopelessly Devoted To You", Susan McFadden doesn't muster much magic or bring out your protective instincts as the square virginal Sandy. But then there's not much individuality in the company as a whole and even the best moments feel dodgy. The actress playing black-sheep Rizzo looks old enough to be the Rydell High civics teacher and the rousing hand-jive-on-bleachers climax to the first half looks oddly out of period. With its vestigial, embarrassing plot, Grease comes over, in this high-energy, high-decibel but completely unaffecting production, as a jukebox masquerading as a musical.

Interesting? Click here to explore further