‘Grease’ Review: Altadena Music Theatre Makes Triumphant Return Under the Stars

There are countless ways to stage Grease, but only one could look and feel quite like this.

Altadena Music Theatre’s new production of Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey’s enduring high-school musical marks the company’s first full mainstage musical since the Eaton Fire in Jan. 2025 destroyed the theater that had housed its productions. Back and better than ever on the grounds of Mountain View Mausoleum, at least for the time being, AMT’s 11-day run of Grease — ending Sunday, August 16th — has exemplified more than simply a return to operations; rather, it’s a testament to AMT’s perseverance in emerging from the proverbial ashes with its identity intact and turning displacement into an unlikely creative advantage. Grease, which precedes September’s Little Shop of Horrors, carries an almost celebratory spirit — and why shouldn’t it?

That resilience feels especially appropriate for a musical driven by teenagers constantly reinventing themselves. Set at Rydell High in 1959, Grease follows Danny Zuko and Sandy Dumbrowski, whose idyllic summer romance becomes considerably more complicated once they unexpectedly reunite at school. Surrounded by the Burger Palace Boys, Pink Ladies, dances, drive-ins and adolescent posturing, both must decide how much of themselves they are willing to alter for love and social acceptance. The plot has never been the musical’s greatest asset. Nonetheless, its durability lies in Jacobs and Casey’s infectious score, irreverent humor and an affectionate, occasionally biting view of teenage life filtered through 1950s sensibilities.

Director Oliver Azcarate takes full advantage of the unusual setting. Andrew Hull’s expansive scenic environment spreads Rydell across a generous swath of the outdoor Mausoleum property rather than containing it inside a conventional proscenium, giving Melissa Schade’s choreography room to travel while the cast, scenery and even automobiles move freely through the show’s sprawling footprint. Classic cars are, yes, actually driven past the audience and across the dirt in front of the stage, with a burnished red convertible becoming the object of Kenickie’s affection during “Greased Lightnin’.” There is something almost cinematic about watching the action transpire beneath the open sky, producing a kinetic freedom closer in spirit to the 1978 film than most stage versions could reasonably achieve.

That makes this Grease inherently unrepeatable. Move the same cast and choreography into a traditional auditorium and it would become a different staging. Here, the temporary venue is not something audiences are asked to overlook. It is, in fact, one of the show’s defining assets.

Eric Stanton Betts brings a striking physical presence, a gratifying singing voice, coordinated dance moves and a welcome streak of comedy to Danny, only weeks after wrapping a completely different kind of leading comic turn as the Scarecrow in 5-Star Theatricals’ The Wizard of Oz in Thousand Oaks, which closed less than a month ago. The turnaround is remarkable, yet Betts comfortably trades loose-limbed Oz eccentricity for Danny’s studied cool, capturing his occasional obliviousness and even throwing an acrobatic handstand-flip into the proceedings.

Ruby Lewis’ Sandy serves as a strong counterweight, giving the character a refreshing humility and groundedness alongside considerable vocal boldness. She dazzles on “Hopelessly Devoted to You” — at one point hoisted atop Betts’ shoulders — and brings confidence and undeniable grit to every measured note of “Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee (Reprise).” Together, Lewis and Betts provide the romantic spine while the surrounding company furnishes much of the show’s personality, befitting a stage musical whose supporting players are given plenty of room to register.

Romy Evans delivers perhaps the evening’s finest acting as Rizzo, getting across the character’s uncouth attitude, anger and the weariness underneath it before bowling over attendees with a touching “There Are Worse Things I Could Do.” She and James Byous’ commanding Kenickie make a dynamite, combustible pair — complete with what might qualify as the longest makeout session ever seen onstage.

Scarlet Sheppard’s Frenchy radiates an appealing innocence as Rydell’s most uncertain Pink Lady and executes a terrific shoulder shimmy, while Cheyenne Isabel makes a vivid Marty, her clean, robust sound coming through beautifully in “Freddy, My Love.” Chelsea Maker makes the food-loving, pigtailed Jan thoroughly likable, while Justin Anthony Long gives Doody an effervescent verve and pleasant timbre. Eugene Boyd, meanwhile, is tireless as Roger, whether mooning the crowd or ascending into a striking upper register that might make Frankie Valli proud.

Jalen Friday announces himself immediately, joining Harmony Elise Jones and Monica Azcárate (who also makes a winning turn as Cha-Cha) to open the show with “Grease,” and his extraordinary vocal power and versatility only become more apparent when Teen Angel arrives with the ultimate message about the importance of education. With irrepressible panache and vocal brilliance, Friday makes “Beauty School Dropout” the evening’s biggest showstopper, holding the audience in the palm of his hand with infectious flamboyance and a touch of James Brown-like electricity before earning the night’s loudest ovation.

Chris Wade’s music direction and live musicians give the score the punch it requires, with the band perched on risers and visible through the window of Hull’s centerpiece Rydell building rather than tucked out of sight. Wade also doubles as Johnny Casino, while Bryce Ryness’ Vince Fontaine similarly possesses the kind of booming hype-man voice perfectly suited to the period.

Schade’s choreographic expertise comes into especially sharp focus during “We Go Together” and the terrific “Born to Hand Jive,” where splits, lively partner work and youthful abandon fill the broad space. By “You’re the One That I Want,” there is figurative fire all over the stage. Meanwhile, the design team embraces the visual exuberance of the period, allowing nostalgia to percolate satisfyingly. Costumes (Michael Mullen), wigs (Melissa Dupont), lighting (Bosco Flannigan) and props (Rachel Gold) collectively keep the production colorful and buoyant, while the open-air setting lends an enthralling unpredictability.

Yet the most affecting element may exist beyond Rydell High altogether.

Rather than wait for what was lost to be rebuilt, AMT found another patch of Altadena sky and kept going. For Producing Artistic Director Sarah Azcarate and her husband Oliver, who also serves as a producer, seeing several hundred theatergoers gathered again makes that journey feel particularly uplifting, something evident in their heartfelt pre-show remarks.

That history does not automatically make Grease good theater. What matters is that the company has used adversity to rethink what the show can be. The result is jubilant, dynamic and unmistakably tied to this particular moment in the community’s recovery.

Productions of Grease will continue appearing everywhere, but this one will not, unless Altadena Music Theatre decides on an encore down the line after all the deserved publicity this short run has garnered. In any case, for those who experience this unique offering, in the context of Altadena Music Theatre’s exultant return, it will be difficult to imagine another Grease with a similar impact.

Cover image caption: Left to right are Ruby Lewis and Eric Stanton Betts in Altadena Music Theatre’s production of Grease in Altadena, CA. Photo by Abel Armas Photography.

For more information on Altadena Music Theatre, its return production of Grease, as well as future shows, visit altadenamusictheatre.com.