By Eldon G.
Bear with me on this one.
There are a lot of great, widely proliferated fan theories about Grease, both the musical and the fantastic film adaptation.
I’m sure you’ve read the theory about Sandy being dead for the entirety of the film. It’s an entertaining read to be sure, but John Travolta, the Zuko man himself, squashed that theory flat in 2018 when he told USA Today “Imaginations are awesome!” In response to a direct question about whether the theory was true or not.
Because it’s imaginary.
I, on the other hand, have no time to waste on childish imaginings.
I instead intend to present to you the unequivocal truth: that Grease is the story of a very literal Biblical Apocalypse in the western Christian tradition.
That’s right, it’s the other kind of Jacob’s ladder.
I attended Catholic school for eight years and I’ve been experiencing eschatological dread pretty regularly for almost twenty eight years so I’d say I’m more qualified than most to explain to you all exactly how and why Grease is a musical about the end of the world.
Grease, like all great apocalyptic tales, begins with the coming of a Messianic figure.
Sandy is pious, pure and she comes to Rydell High from Australia, a land so mystical and captivating in the American mythos that we made three Crocodile Dundees about it.
Look, personal convictions aside, the writers couldn’t just throw a virgin birth in the thing and hope to sell it to a mainstream audience, so Australia was really the only available option.
Artistic integrity is great but it doesn’t put food on the table.
Sandy is beset on all sides by temptation, first from Danny Zuko, a well meaning believer who is too often distracted by hedonistic delights like fast cars and the teachings of the false prophet, Kenickie.
Then, from the wayward beckonings of the Pink Ladies who try in vain to entice Sandy with the sins of the flesh.
These tests are pivotal moments in our apocalyptic plot, as the critical path of the film is Sandy’s battle for the souls of her followers, and specifically her one true follower, Danny.
The “Sandy is Dead” theory makes a great deal out of the dreamlike ending to the film adaptation in which Sandy and Danny float off into the sky in a flying convertible.
But that theory misses out on one of the most important elements of that scene (which I believe is intended quite literally): Judgement. Every bit as vital as who is flying off into the sun are the others left behind on the ground.
The adulterers, the deniers, the sinners of various shades are left to wave placidly at the rapidly vanishing tail lights, their symbolic hope of salvation literally floating away.
In this context their mournful refrain “We’ll always be together” becomes almost haunting.
They’ll always be united in sin, and the parking lot behind the high school is their eternal reward.
Is this getting too dark? I’m worried that this is getting too dark, let’s talk about the scene where Sandy slams a car door on Danny’s penis and how that directly references the bible.
One stark contrast Christianity took to its pagan predecessors was that while paganistic deities were often every bit as capricious, emotional and self serving as the people they presided over, the Judeo-Christian God was supposed to be above all that.
Given this distinction, a very important moment in the New Testament is when Christ first expresses anger upon seeing money changers who have set up shop in the temple and he sets about driving them away.
This is allegorically important in that it shows that while self serving emotions aren’t Christlike, wrath and righteousness still can be when in the service of something greater.
Sandy is sweet and gentle for nearly the entire run time of the film, until Danny takes it one step too far at the drive-in theater turning it into a metaphorical “den of thieves”.
Of course, Sandy doesn’t have the means to fashion a “whip out of cords” so she has to make do with modern implements.
All I’m trying to say here is that Sandy is Jesus, the car is the temple and the money changers are John Travolta’s dick. What about that is so hard to understand?
My wild, baseless conjecture about the ulterior motives of Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey in writing Grease would provide it the rare distinction of being an apocalyptic film set entirely in the past.
By the time the film was widely released it was already abundantly clear to moviegoers that the world had not ended in 1958.
But of course this wouldn’t make them the only people in history ever to flub the timing of an apocalyptic prediction.
I’m not even thirty and I’ve survived the raptures of 2019 and 2018, the utter consumption of the Earth in 2017, the Blood Moon Prophesy of 2015, Rasputin’s great storm of 2013, the Mayan apocalypse of 2012, both of Harold Camping’s rapture deadlines in 2011, Golden Dawn’s apocalypse in 2010, Pat Robertson’s rapture of 2007, the nuclear holocausts of 2003 AND 2006, Y2K, and the Hale-Bopp comet.
There, now this article is perfectly search engine optimized for people who put aluminum in their socks to keep the 5G out.
Fatalism of this type, especially fatalism that is expressly handed down from religious and cult leadership, is generally a high-minded excuse to turn a blind eye to the many flaws and complexities in our daily lives.
Sometimes when I’m really stressed about a work deadline, I start to worry about things like car accidents, that rear molar I haven’t gotten checked out in half a decade, or the impending heat death of the universe instead.
But the timing of these worries is awfully convenient.
In fact, It’s less like I actually care about those things and more like my mind is giving itself a very painful break from what’s been troubling me.
Apocalyptic thinking from religious and political leadership is basically the same thing but the work deadline is unmitigated resource consumption, widespread inequality and even legitimate global disasters (if the world is ending soon anyway, why bother listening to the clear and obvious directions of scientists and public health officials, am I right?)
Or it could just be lazy storytelling.
Happy endings are tough to get right and sometimes it’s just easier to kill everybody.
That’s what Revelations did and Christian god literally had all of time to write it.
Speaking of Revelations, you might be wondering how my little theory holds up in the face of Sandy’s clear transformation at the end of Grease. She’s dressed awfully like a hot rod racing heathen at the end of the film isn’t she?
Well first of all, you dullard, the fact that she’s demanding that Danny “Better shape up, cause I need a man. And my heart is set on you” is a lot more important.
But let’s also look at how the messiah returns in revelations
“The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.”
If that’s not the biblical equivalent of a black leather jacket and curls, then I don’t know what is.
Splorchtown 