"Grease is the Word": Why Grease Still Matters
And it's not just because lube still matters, though that too
by Shelby
Hope you’re excited that it’s finally here. I know I am. Enjoy:
“Grease is the Word”: Why Grease Still Matters
The movie opens at the beach just as a wave rolls in. “Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing” by The Four Aces (1955) unfolds in a rolling motion before swelling elegantly, matching the pace of the imminent wave. At the peak of the music, the wave crashes against the beach and the rocks, sending a glittering spray into the sky above, and the almost operatic voices of The Four Aces ring out a resounding “Loooove,” drawing out the note. This crescendo settles down, the water pulls back, and the song continues “is a many-splendored thing.” This is the first scene of Grease (1978). The first scene of my favorite movie that is forever embedded into my mind is a poetic portrayal of an orgasm.
Grease and I go way back. My oldest friend and childhood next-door neighbor, Ashleigh, had a guest bedroom in her house with a TV and this was the place to be. We had a heavy rotation of Mary-Kate and Ashley VHSes, Disney Channel, and Grease. I am one of those people who actually has seen Grease well over a hundred times, and I’ve been watching Grease since childhood. As I’m going to reflect on, Grease is, not surprisingly, an explicit movie, covered in a thick layer of catchy songs, a good wardrobe, and Olivia Newton-John. I began watching Grease before I learned about sex—teenage sex to be exact, though I will touch on the actors’ ages later on. Ashleigh and I were in the 6-8-year-old range, it was the late nineties/early ‘00s and our parents laughed along with the sex jokes like Kenickie’s “25-cent insurance policy” or how Danny Zuko thrusts his hips while singing “the chicks’ll cream” during “Greased Lightning.” Understanding what was actually going on in those scenes—and what to cream means—wouldn’t come till later, but Grease played a role in my fascination with sex and sexuality. I want to clarify quickly that while I have not seen a stage production of Grease, I’d like to think I’ve done more than enough research. I understand that there are differences between the movie and the original musical, such as changing, adding, or removing songs from the original story to better fit the needs of the actors.
In this six-part series (fingers crossed), I aim to pinpoint six movies that, at the very least for me, were sexually educating. I’m looking for what the movie has to say about developing sexuality, the accuracy of the sex portrayed (or what the lack of physical sex shown means), and the dealings of real sex issues such as early ejaculation, impotence, lack of libido, the female orgasm, STI’s, and unwanted pregnancies. Additionally, I examine the character diversity and varying genders and sexualities as well as lifestyle choices, societal pressure, and the like. Sex can and usually is everywhere, yet these movies don’t use it as a simple plot point. Instead, these movies revolve solely around sex: They dabble in the taboo and aim to shock their audiences in some capacity. Sex is the goal, not an activity. Grease discusses the societal pressures of sex and sexuality imposed at a young age—how boys and girls should look and behave in order to receive respect, love, sex, pleasure, popularity—all while perpetuating censored, cis-gendered ideals of the late seventies.
“Too pure to be pink”: The Seventies and Sex
So what are those ideals? Big changes were happening in the world of sex in the seventies. Not only was this the Golden Age of pornography as adult films were being made and sold left and right, but two years prior to Grease’s release the groundbreaking first volume of Michel Foucault’s The History of Sexuality was published. I bring up Foucault not only to flex, but to draw attention to this defining moment in our understanding of sexuality. In The History of Sexuality, Foucault explains we are living in a repressive society. The first line reads:
“For a long time, the story goes, we supported a Victorian regime, and we continue to be dominated by it even today. Thus the image of the imperial prude is emblazoned on our restrained, mute, and hypocritical sexuality.”
Foucault insists we are still living by the Victorian rule that sex was for reproduction only and everything surrounding sex should not be discussed. Sex was simply a tool used by the traditional, conjugal family (patriarch presiding over the family like a king or a god), nothing else. This repression, he urges, works to silence anything that doesn’t fit into the heteronormative understanding of sexuality. Foucault’s pivotal work goes on to have three additional volumes further discussing his theory on pleasure, but in the first volume he asserts that “Tomorrow sex will be good again.” And he was right.
In a 2018 Dazed article, Miss Rosen examines Allan Tannenbaum’s exotic and erotic photos that encapsulate the 1970s of New York. Rosen says:
“The 1970s were the height of personal liberation. Prior to the advent of Aids, sex was a space for experimentation by a new generation coming of age, reaping the freedoms of the sexual revolution and the women’s and gay liberation movements. Powered by a profound desire for pleasure, self-expression, and the need to connect, sexuality became an open space for men and women free from the heavy-handed social control of the 1950s—and the results were amazing.”
By mimicking the setting of the 1950s and invoking that “heavy-handed social control” juxtaposed with the, at times, overt sexual remarks, Grease brings to life what Rosen suggests. This movie epitomizes the swift transition from poodle-skirts and morals in the first half to sewing someone into skin-tight leather and grabbing a pack of smokes to blow the 50s away in the other. Whether you like it or not, Sandy will shed her virginal posterior and transform into a sexual being; that shift has already been made.
In order to convey this sexual liberation (without actually conveying anything as I’ll get into), Grease will need a star-studded cast of course! We’re to believe that these sexual issues are happening to high schoolers on the precipice of graduating. It’s their final year, school resides at the bottom of their priority list while getting laid hangs out at the top, as with many seniors. However—surprise!—these actors are not teenagers, or even close to it. John Travolta is the youngest main star at 24 (Putzie, the blonde T-Bird played by Kelly Ward was technically the youngest at 22). Jeff Conaway (Kenickie) was 28, Olivia Newton-John was 30, Michael Tucci (Sonny) was 32 and the true “senior” of the movie, Stockard Channing (Rizzo) was 34. One can certainly dive deeper into the age gap of character to actor and whether or not that affects the message of the movie, but other than being ironic and funny now 43 years later, this age was primarily typical for the 70s screen. I believe the shocking but celebratory nature of teenage sexuality in this movie still rings true regardless of the actor’s ages. While also old, all of the actors are white—the only Black people and people of color in the film are background dancers during the National Bandstand’s Dance Off—but this too is an unfortunate product of the 70s.
“We go together like…”: The Pairing and Breaking of Gender Norms
This section, in particular, has plagued me since I began writing. How do I convey the importance of the obvious gender dynamics without just...retelling the entire movie? How much time should I devote to going through each character and their foils? What, truly, am I trying to say about Grease? This: Grease exists to challenge the unprogressive gender norms of the baby boomer’s before them. It is easy to write the movie off as perpetuating misogynistic ideals, homophobia, and a whole onslaught of racism and classism, because, yeah, those things are obvious. But it also has a lot to say about sex and teenager’s bodies that I find importance shedding light on that.
The ensemble cast is split neatly down the middle; everyone is paired up and we’re to understand this is the status quo. From the dynamic duo in Coach Calhoun and Principle McGee to the pretty over-the-top bullying of school nerds Patty Simcox and Eugene Felsnic, everyone has a partner. The T-Birds and Pink Ladies alike just happen to be made up of even numbers, systematically aligning each star with their counterpart respectively: Danny, Kenickie, Sonny, Doody, Putzie and Sandy, Rizzo, Frenchie, Marty, Jan. No one is “single” other than Principle McGee’s sticky-fingered assistant and the quarterback Sandy dates in between Danny—who doesn’t get any lines whatsoever—and these two characters exist simply for comedic relief and conflict for the plot. Even the “bad guys,” the Scorpions, are paired up with Leo “Crater Face” Balmudo and Cha-Cha Digregorio. Monogamy, then, is the standard at which the masculine and feminine fall into place: You’re either paired up or a comedy piece.
Furthermore, the masculine and feminine revolve around one’s reputation—the men are supposed to be hound dogs, racking up notches on their headboards, and heavily aggressive while the women are supposed to play hard to get with the emphasis on play since they must not be too hard to get. This is established early on—when the T-Birds reunite after summer vacation, we see Kenickie roughhouse another student while Danny chats with a gaggle of girls whom we never see again. Before anyone really talks, the men are ready for two things: to fight and to fuck. And what better person to play the fuck-boy Danny than young John Travolta! An extremely formative scene for my sexuality is Danny’s whip around scene (pictured here), an obvious nod to the burgeoning female gaze.
While Grease does create the binary of the two sexes early on, it also plants the inevitable rupture of this dichotomy at the same time. Kenickie asks Danny how “the action” was “at the beach.” Danny replies “Oh, it was flippin” to a round of laughter, but then his demeanor changes. There’s a sudden shyness to Danny that disrupts his sex-symbol persona. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, glances around nervously, and says “I did, uh, meet this one chick. She was sort of cool, you know.” In the moment, his friends interpret “sort of cool” as “cool enough to have sex” and, if they’re wrong, Danny doesn’t correct them. He knows he has to maintain a certain image to keep his superior position. And here we have the shift to the seventies. Here we have the beginnings of sexual subversion.
Through his tenderness and, in turn, Sandy’s opposition to tenderness which I’ll get to, Danny and Sandy become Grease’s pioneers of sexuality. We’re off with a bang with the first reunion scene after the pep rally later that evening. Sandy and her family were supposed to return to Australia at the end of the summer, but they “had a change of plans”—whatever that means for someone literally moving to the other side of the world—so the pair never thought they would see each other again. But here, just when Danny thought his senior year would play out just like the previous, Sandy shows up—well, really she’s dragged over by Rizzo in what can only be implied as some revenge tactic Rizzo implements and we’re not really sure what happened between Danny and Rizzo and instead of giving us details, their past relationship is never brought up again—and suddenly it’s only Danny and Sandy again, all giggles.
But this idyllic bubble pops when Danny’s crew saddles up behind him, Kenickie offering him an “Are you serious?” look and Danny is reminded of his reputation. Thinking quickly, he brushes Sandy off with a “That’s cool, baby. I mean, you know how it is, rockin’ and rollin’ and whatnot.” What an idiot. We’re lucky, though, because Danny doesn’t accept this one size fits all mentality. He wants change. He says as much to Coach Calhoun in the sports montage. Okay, this scene is critical to my argument that this movie isn’t misogynistic—Danny enacts change first. He goes to Coach Calhoun to find a sport since he knows Sandy likes young men who play a sport as seen by her briefly dating the quarterback who doesn’t get any lines. When Calhoun agrees to help Danny try, he says that he needs to change, indicating to his street clothes. Danny takes him metaphorically replying “I know, that’s why I’m here, you know, to change.” Additionally, I believe Danny’s secrecy is pivitol. He never told anyone about his cross-country running—not the T-Birds, not Kenickie, and it doesn’t seem like Sandy either since, at the end of the movie, Danny wears his Letterman sweater for the first time to the summer carnival, as if to surprise Sandy, but she surprises him first.
But before we get to Sandy’s transformation, I need to discuss the drive-in scene and the sexual assault. Oddly one of my favorite songs as a child (I really don’t know why, but I know all of the words), this scene presents some challenges. For context, just before this scene is the Bandstand’s National Dance-Off where Cha-Cha, the best dancer from St. Bernadettes with the worst reputation, steals Danny from Sandy, leaving Sandy to dip out early, alone and upset, and Danny and Cha-Cha to win the dance-off. I’m not going to spend too much time on the dance-off itself, other than to point out that obviously Cha-Cha and Sandy are sexual foils of each other with Sandy wearing what truly could be a habit and Cha-Cha, well, being Cha-Cha. I also think that in order to have the drive-in scene, there needed to be conflict between Danny and Sandy and what’s better conflict than an ex.
So, at the drive-in, we have the sexual assault. It begins with Danny using the gel from his hair to take off the random ring—just another fantastic instance of the necessity of lubrication—and present it to Sandy, emulating a Promise Ring. Sandy, ever-pure and elated, immediately drops her cold-shoulder act and tells Danny “this means so much to me cause I now know, you respect me.” Cue Danny’s horrified look. The mood has lightened on Sandy’s side, but Danny is more confused than ever. I imagine him thinking, wait, aren’t I supposed to score? With his arm around her shoulders, Danny’s hand begins to creep—ironically since the preview they’re watching is for the 1958’ horror movie, The Blob, with its iconic “IT CREEPS!” flashing across the screen—down onto Sandy’s breast. She gasps, Danny either takes this gasp as excitement or a moment of vulnerability before pushing her down on the bench seat, kissing her. Sandy, horrified, screeches, ignoring Danny’s clarification that no one is watching and pushes her way up. She exits the car, slamming the door on what seems to be Danny’s erection given his painful reaction, and she throws Danny’s “piece of tin” ring back at him before storming off.
What just happened here? This drive-in scene, paired with the assault, is the catalyst for sexual change. Danny is, to say the least, confused and to say the most, an asshole. At the dance-off, his ex, Cha-Cha, pulled him back and tried to stuff him into his life before Sandy. So when Sandy and Danny are together again at the drive-in, Danny believes he has to prove, now more than ever, that he’s picking her over Cha-Cha. He wants her, not his ex, not his past. In his silly young man's brain, he believes he needs to remind Sandy that he wants to be with her and finds her attractive. This ring, he spontaneously decides, represents the commitment he will try his damn hardest to prove. But everything comes off wrong: Sandy doesn’t want to have sex (at least, right now), she is still hurt by his actions, and even more so by the sexual pressure he placed on her. After she storms off, however, Danny changes.
“Stranded at the Drive-In” is Danny learning and coming to terms with realizing his behavior was and is dumb. He’s “branded a fool” by his friends for not getting laid, his reputation always on the line, but also by his actions just now and he, perhaps finally, becomes aware of this. This is why he lettered in track, earning the letterman sweater that he proudly wears to the end-of-the-year carnival, much to the chagrin of his fellow T-Birds. He’s a changed man now, though, as he explains: “Oh come on guys, you know you mean a lot to me but Sandy does, too, and I’m gonna do anything I can to get her, that’s all” all while nervously adjusting his sweater.
Sandy too has a song of change, the reprise of “Look At Me I’m Sandra Dee” she sings while off to the side during the famous race scene. She sings “goodbye to Sandra Dee” not because she’s forced to change but because she wants to change. She wants to find her defining trait as she sings “Look at me, there has to be / Something more than what they see.” Sandy donning leather pants that Newton-John needed to be sewn into thanks to a broken zipper is a display of self-discovery. Think about it—according to the gender dynamics the movie sets up early on, women are supposed to be both hard to get and easy to score. Outwardly, the woman is prim and proper—her hair perfectly coiffed, her dress long and fluffy to hide her curves—everything a 50s wife emulates. What all the other women (save Rizzo) emulate. And then she shows up wearing the opposite of all that, the opposite of what she’s supposed to be. Instead, she is a sexually-liberated, pleasure-oriented, and free of the 50’s confines.
“The chicks’ll cream”: Sex in a Sex-less Movie
If you’ve ever seen this movie then you know there is no sex on screen. For how explicit most of the lines are, it’s interesting to note there is zero nudity in the movie of any kind. Even in the intense make-out scene between Rizzo and Kenickie in the back of his car, which results in a “false alarm” pregnancy, the two have every layer still on, jackets included. But the sex is there and it’s happening in all the songs. Let’s return to that first crashing wave. The majority of the rest of the movie takes place on the grounds of Rydell High School (very infrequently are they actually attending class inside the school). But we do not start at Rydell, we start at a beach during golden hour as the presumably—even though the original musical is set in Chicago—California sun sets. The waves are rolling, Danny and Sandy are alone, even isolated from everyone else, from reality. Taken from “Summer Lovin’,” here is a definitive list of the activities the pair were up to on that beach:
Sandy swam past him, got a cramp resulting in her almost drowning, and Danny saves her
At a separate instance, Danny runs past Sandy and got her suit “damp”—gross
Danny took her bowling in the arcade, said while making an obvious fingering gesture
They made out under the dock and *gasp* stayed out until ten o’clock!
Sandy says he got “friendly” while holding her hand, whatever that means, and Danny tells us Sandy got even more friendly in the sand with him, whatever that means
“She was good you know what I mean”—enough said.
And then the couple made their “true love vow”
Hold up, “true love vow”? So…a verbal vow or a different type of oral vow? I assume here that we’re referring to vaginal penetration, the ultimate goal, is the vow made to demonstrate their true love. Because of this, we’re to understand that, if vaginal penetration did happen, it was only because of being in “true love.” But you and I know and all of Grease knows that’s not true. Not only can you have vaginal penetration without true love, but you can totally have vaginal penetration without any form of love. For their reputation’s sake, Danny and Sandy say they had sex because of true love—if true, then all the better, but if not, at least they’ll get in less trouble?
Let’s examine the next sexually expressive song, “Greased Lightning.” Oh my goodness do I have so many thoughts on this song and the music video scene we get in the movie. First, I just have to say that cars (really anything a man has control over, like a horse in Shakespeare’s time) have always been a euphemism for sex, the male bravado, and the sexual ideal, and “Greased Lightning” is no exception. Sure, Danny and his pals fantasize about getting new taillights for this jalopy, but what are they really saying? Substituting the car for sex acts we find our answer: “Why this sex is automatic / It’s systematic.” Sex, then, is as common as upgrading one’s car—there are many, many choices, and all lead to being a “pussy wagon.” Is “Greased Lightning” also where I learned about female ejaculation and the importance of lubrication during intercourse? Yes, yes it is. Also, the saran wrap sequence?? Totally portraying the necessity of condoms, but how backwards the 50s were in thinking that saran wrap could keep one safe from pregnancy.
The only physical consequence of sex is the teen pregnancy incident. Rizzo is such an interesting character and I could write an entire piece just on this character and Stockard Channing alone. While she gets paired up with Kenickie and I do love them together, Rizzo doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the characters. Whether this is just a Stockard Channing thing or where the character was supposed to go, Rizzo seems harrowed. She’s ready to leave Rydel, she’s eager to graduate and move on. She doesn’t really have a place, other than at the head of the Pink Ladies and even that is fleeting. Rizzo is probably more concerned, more hurt, by the societal gender roles and she isn’t one who gets to escape. After the original “Sandra Dee” where Rizzo bullies Sandy at Frenchie’s sleepover, she leaves telling the other girls “I’m going to get my kicks, while I’m still young enough to get ‘em.” She scales down the house and meets with the T-Birds outside. Throwing a sexy look at Kenickie, she initiates, asking “What’s up, Kenick?” to which he replies “One guess” and we’re off—sex is going to happen regardless of any true love vow. I just need to point out that after this, in order to get rid of the rest of the T-Birds, Kenickie shouts “So what do you guys think this is? A gangbang?” The explicitness of the verbiage as compared to the chaste imagery is such an interesting combination.
Her and Kenickie then drive to make-out point, where, when prompted by Rizzo, Kenickie pulls a condom (not saran wrap??) out of his wallet that breaks because he “bought it when [he] was in the seventh grade.” One of my favorite lines in the whole movie. Their unprotected sex does lead to pregnancy—shocker—and while Rizzo lamants her reputation and whether or not to tell Kenickie about it in her song “There Are Worse Things I Could Do,” she miraculously is unpregnant, and the two can finish out their high school year. The pregnancy is definitely a B-plot and I’m not surprised it didn’t amount to anything other than initial fear, but the warning still presides: Fellas, please check the expiry date on those “25 cent insurance policies” and do not keep them in your wallet, kay?
“Love is a many-splendored thing”: Final Thoughts
Sex was, is, and probably always will be all he said, she said. The act really only exists for two reasons: reproduction and to be talked about and judged by later on. Are there flaws in this movie? Totally. Can it be argued that the treatment of sexuality was and still is flawed? Also totally. It’s easy to claim Grease is solely misogynistic, rapey, and explicit. While, yes it definitely is all of those things, it’s also more. Grease is about the sexual liberation of the late seventies paired with breaking society’s gender molds. I will always stand up for Grease when someone assumes it’s a bad movie. Without this movie, I wouldn’t know what a being a defective typewriter means, how important lubrication is for literally anything, and where to store my condoms. Without this movie, I wouldn’t know that sexual liberation is a hard but necessary occurrence to figure out who/what one is supposed to be. And remember, this isn’t the end, “its only the beginning.”
Before I go, I have a few unanswerable questions that I think about every time I watch this movie:
The kiddy pool in Frenchie’s backyard. Whose pool is this? Frenchie’s? Does she have younger siblings? Also, the yard isn’t really cute and the kiddy pool just...stands out especially with virginal Sandy singing to Danny’s reflection in the dirty pool.
Where are the parents? Really, nothing more than that.
At the dance-off, why does Sonny help steal Sandy away so Cha-Cha can slide in? Does he simply like chaos? Probably.
Right before Frenchie’s solo moment, with Frankie Avalon telling her to go back to high school, the waitress, carrying a tray of items, goes to flip off the lights with her elbow but is actually like a foot away from the switch yet the lights shut off anyway. This irritates me every time. Why wasn’t this reshot? It would have taken thirty seconds.
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Thanks for reading, hope you thought of something in a different light.
You GUYS. Terrible news! As of working on this last night, I have discovered that Grease will be leaving Amazon Prime at the end of the month! I’m devastated even though I own a collector’s edition of the movie. So go watch it now and feel your nostalgic, sexual feelings before it’s gone.
Shit We’re Loving: LISTEN
Shelby’s Pick: Grease by Various Artists on Spotify
Is it cheating to just link you to the Grease album? Yes. Do I care? Nope.
Show Your Support: ACLU
Kicking off our next year of giving, we’re spotlighting the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). The ACLU dares to create a more perfect union—beyond one person, party, or side. Their mission is to realize this promise of the United States Constitution for all and expand the reach of its guarantees. They are “our nation’s guardian of liberty.” The ACLU works in the courts, legislatures, and communities to defend and preserve the individual rights and liberties guaranteed to all people in this country by the Constitution and laws of the United States.
To date, we’ve filed over 237 lawsuits challenging the Trump administration.
These people are freedom pros. Their interest lies in fighting governmental abuse and defending individual freedoms including speech and religion, a woman’s right to choose, the right to due process, citizens’ rights to privacy, and much more. It is to be noted that they aren’t necessarily concerned with morals as they are with violations to the Constitution such as the time in 78 when they defended a Nazi group that wanted to march through a Chicago suburb where many Holocaust survivors lived. Their message was clear: Free speech. And while it tastes a little sour in our current lighting, they have represented an interracial couple in the landmark Supreme Court case, Loving v. Virginia, where the court ruled that state bans on interracial marriage were unconstitutional as well as won the case affirming the constitutional right fo same-sex couples to marry. They are fighting the good fight and we thank them for it.
There are a few ways to get involved, the first is to simply go have a look around on their site. They have been involved in a ton of cases and have a fantastic “wish list” for when Biden and Harris take office. They also have a section for taking action where you can assist by signing and sharing petitions. Then, of course, the monetary donation, which A Trust Fund has already $100 donated to.
Daily Intention
Today I will…
Practice my “Tell me about it, Stud” impression. I’ll nail it one day.
Oh, and watch history happen with Joe Biden and Kamala Harris being sworn in to save this descimated country.
Here’s some nifty buttons for you to press, enjoy: