Many a theatregoer – and practically every critic, blogger or mouthpiece, for that matter – will often be found opining the evils of stunt casting. How effective it actually is to plonk a reality star reject or recently-departed soap regular into a show in the hopes of filling seats remains open for debate. Plenty of ‘star’ vehicles have crashed and burnt to half-empty auditoriums before even getting off the starting block.

And even where they have sold their tickets and gathered the crowds, the lost potential (at best) can often be unforgivable.

Nowhere was this perhaps more apparent than in the 2017 touring production of Grease, which saw the likes of Eastenders’ Louisa Lytton and others flatlining around in a criminally underpowered version of the show. To have called it car crash theatre may have been a trifle cruel, but it was, at the very least, in need of a serious MOT, and the principle diagnosed fault had to be its casting.

Which is an awfully protracted way of getting round to why Nikolai Foster’s latest incarnation of the seventies favourite is so bloody good.

As he has evinced time and time again, Foster is a champion of trained, capable musical theatre talent, and there is, mercifully, nary a whiff of stunt casting or its like anywhere to be found in this turbocharged jolt of automatic, systematic, hydromatic musical theatre.

Many taking to their seats will likely be intimately familiar with the 1978 John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John smash hit. Yet, inevitably for its time, there’s almost an hour’s worth of numbers and material that Kleiser and Paramount chopped from the stage version to make it a palatable cinema serving.

These cutting room excisions all make strong returns here, with Foster and choreographer Dame Arlene Phillips whipping up a fast-paced, hyper energetic dose of Greased Lightnin’ that really burns up the quarter mile.

The core beats and narrative tentpoles remain intact; this remains fundamentally a romantic back-and-forth between cocksure jock Danny Zuko (Marley Fenton) and sweet-natured – if naive – Sandy Dumbrowski (Hope Dawe) who find their idyllic summer romance put to the test in the most brutal arena of all – 1950’s American high school.

“…in this fuller, non-truncated iteration of Grease, it’s many of the supporting characters who really get some flesh put on their bones…”

And yet, in this fuller, non-truncated iteration of Grease, it’s many of the supporting characters who really get some flesh put on their bones. A charming, beautifully-sung duet between Roger (Lewis Day) and Jan (Emerald B). Marty’s (India Chadwick) longing for a distant sweetheart. And heck, even Danny himself gets an ‘I Want’ that isn’t entirely centred around Sandy, in the existential ‘How Big I’m Gonna Be’.

For sure, there are elements of Grease that occasionally bring its age into sharp focus. It isn’t the most blisteringly original or daring of stories – ultimately a big scramble of teenage angst, frustration and stubbornness. Even if its feisty finale wasn’t now the thing of cultural legend, as Sandy sheds her coyness and hesitancy to don her skintight leathers and get her man, you could see where it’s all headed a mile off.

But that’s Grease. It’s a story and show decidedly of its time. Nobody looks for postmodernism or daring in, say, The Sound of Music.

What Foster, Phillips and the company have done then, is deliver the most kinetic, bold and invigorated vision that they can. The result is likely the best that Grease has ever looked or sounded.

Phillips choreography and Foster’s razor sharp direction keeps things moving fast and purposeful. The big numbers and set pieces, that are by now likely wedding and family party staples – your ‘Summer Nights’, ‘You’re the One That I Want’ and, naturally, ‘Greased Lightnin’ – are staged with incredible, boundless energy and excitement.

Colin Richmond’s moving, swinging, interlocking set design offers up plenty of verticality, with the company often leaping, climbing or swinging about it all. In less confident hands, it could easily become little more than a noisy mess, but Foster, hugely abetted by Ben Cracknell’s fantastic lighting, keeps the focus defined and the eye drawn where it needs to on what is often a very busy but always hugely entertaining stage.

Showers of sparks erupt for the coda of ‘Greased Lightnin’. Speaking of which, there is for all intents and purposes a car on stage where needed (no Rocky Horror-esque flats here). Marty’s bedroom detaches and swings open into columns and platforms for the Pink Ladies to adopt their backing positions during ‘Freddy, My Love’. And throughout, the smooth-talking Vince Fontaine (Joe Gash) sets the tone and scene both from his bird’s nest DJ booth from the upstage heights.

It’s a frequently dazzling, often thrilling litmus of how Grease can – and very definitely should – be staged.

Circling back to that former bugbear of casting, there are precisely zero grumbles here. Far from it – the assembled cast deserve all the plaudits. As mentioned, the energy levels throughout the performance reviewed were blisteringly high across the entire company.

“It’s a frequently dazzling, often thrilling litmus of how Grease can – and very definitely should – be staged.”

Marley Fenton (The Wizard of Oz, Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends) continues his ascent as an exciting musical theatre talent to watch. He shrewdly forgoes any attempt or inkling to imitate Travolta, and creates a Danny Zuko all of his own. Hope Dawe injects a very welcome bit of fire and grit into the belly of her Sandy, aided by the fact that the longer stage show gives her more moments of direct conflict and agency. She also proves an incredible vocalist – with some quite staggering belts in ‘Summer Nights’, ‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’ and the reprise of ‘Sandra Dee’.

Rebecca Stenhouse, meanwhile, is completely perfect as the guarded, caustic yet hilarious Rizzo, nailing what is arguably the show’s best character and taking her on a palpable journey. It’s a terrific supporting turn, and one beautifully met by a similarly great Adam Davidson, who impressed from the off covering the role of Kenickie in the performance reviewed.

Joe Gash makes the absolute most of every moment he’s on the stage, be it as a swivelling, crooning, loose-hipped (and even looser lipped!) Fontaine or a deliciously camp Teen Angel. Lewis Day, Sario Solomon and Kieran Lynch are all great fun as the other main players of the ‘Burger Palace Boys’ (sorry, no T-birds here) and Alicia Belgarde is delightful as the suitably ebulant and chipper ‘Frenchy’.

But throw a rock on stage at Grease (not literally, please) and you will hit serious talent.

And in many ways, with its fuller roster of numbers and stronger focus on the wider cast, it is decidedly it’s own thing for those only familiar with the film.

But with truly electrifying direction, Dame Arlene’s mega horsepower choreography and a teenage dream of a cast giving it their all at every moment, any spectres or shadows of underpowered and ‘star’ laden productions of yesteryear already begin to vanish.

Grease is the word.

And, by any dint of comparison, this production surely deserves to be the definitive one.