A limp, cheaply made version (1978) of the Broadway (ne Chicago) play about growing up cool in the 50s. Director Randal Kleiser, making his theatrical film debut, shows no real sense of how a musical is constructed: the songs are bunched together, the production numbers don't move, and the whole project shifts awkwardly between naturalism and stylization. John Travolta does little with a pallid part (although he does have a chance to dance an unabashedly gratuitous disco number); Olivia Newton-John is merely pallid.
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The paper doesn't think Grease's creators are worth mentioning.