THEATRE REVIEW

MAY 2026 | Volume 263

 

CTORA is a company that has been making a name for itself on the Vancouver musical theatre scene. Its latest staging, Grease, is not going to hurt it any. Sarah Rodgers directs a large, talented company of young actors in a production marked by excellent singing and dancing, Ken Overbey’s terrific choreography, Brian Ball’s clever period costumes and John Webber’s busy lighting.

Let me get my two complaints out of the way, then I’ll have nothing but praise for the production. First, the material. Grease is a silly play that satirizes the culture of a long-ago era, the early 1970s, with references that no one but baby boomers are going to get: Fabian? Alan Freed? even Sandra Dee, the subject of two songs. The dialogue is just dumb, although the songs are fine. Grease is an ultra-watered-down version of West Side Story, which CTORA did wonderfully well last year, but it does not take its subject—working class kids in the city—in any way seriously. It does have respect for the music of the era, which Jacobs and Casey replicate in their score. Another redeeming feature is that so many of the principals get to shine.

But gee, why not let us hear their voices clearly, and even some of the lyrics. Once again, as I’ve complained so many times about Vancouver musicals, the music is too loud for even the mik’d voices. Sitting in Row 7, I had to try to read lips, other than for a few exceptional solos by the good girl Sandy (wonderful Ava Stark), the bad girl Rizzo (Manuela Palmieri), Teen Angel (Keith Macmillan), and our greaser hero Danny (Stephen Thakkar), all fine performers. I was able to hear enough to know that Doody (Brett Williams), Marty (Amanda Laurenço), Roger (Eric Gibson) and Jan (Maria Alejandra Marshall) have strong, resonant voices as well. But gee, Officer Krupke, I sure would have liked to hear their voices unimpeded, and even to know what words they were singing.

The big ensemble numbers—which should be loud—work best. “Greased Lightning,” led by the charismatic Kenickie (Connor Hawkins), is the showstopper. Johnny Casino’s “Hand Jive” (David Grof) and both the opening and closing numbers in act two are dynamite. Credit Jeremy Hoffman’s seven-piece band, Overbey’s muscular choreography, and the entire exuberant ensemble (kudos to Isabelle Madrigal’s Cha Cha and Katrina Teitz’s Patti) for those visual, sonic spectacles.

First-rate work on second-rate material—that’s a whole lot better than if it were the other way around.

 

 

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