I’ve been on such a movie kick lately, partly because there are so many good ones out right now and partly because exploring my own soul through film is how I handle this oppressive weather. Captain Phillips, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, and Despicable Me 2 are all good contenders, but instead I’m going to talk about the least likely and most aggressively neglected, which is Grease 2.
Saying that sequels are crapshoot is an understatement. And the word “crapshoot” really manifests itself in Grease 2 at an alarming and obviously expected level because it is just terrible. I mean really terrible. But that is exactly why it is one more thing you have to see or you might actually waste away to nothing, I think.
Now to be fair, you can’t have a knockout hit like Grease and expect a successful, well, successor. So the movie was bound to fail anyways. Frenchie, Crater Face, Coach Calhoun, Principal McGee and Blanche (the. single. best. name. ever.) are the only five who remain for the sequel, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t packed with talent. Michelle Pfeiffer will go down in history as one of the greatest actresses that ever lived, not for her performances in Scarface or Hairspray, but for her two minute rendition of “Cool Rider”.
That being said, if you’ve never sang “Cool Rider” in your pajamas with a faux microphone I’m not sure I would ever want to be friends with you. Other than that, the songs are garbage. “When I Hear From Brad”, “Reproduction”, and “Let’s Bowl, Let’s Bowl, Let’s Rock’n’Roll” reaaaaaally suck. But they make you appreciate Grease so much more than you ever did before, if that’s even possible.
And it’s hilarious to watch on a date. You can either laugh at how bad it is together, or you can really take advantage of the outlandish moments as opportunities to make out. Which is often. Your choice, whatever.
But regardless, you need to see it. Matthew Caulfield’s British accent is the epitome of phonetic Heaven. I actually now know of two people who realized they were gay when they heard him speak in his leather jacket. So I mean, if you’re unsure…this movie could set you straight (or not) ha! I mean, there’s just a life altering change that occurs when you see him come out on his motorcycle for the first time. I’m not saying that he’s going to be John Tra-flipping-volta out on Thunder Road, let’s get that absolutely crystal clear. But like, we’re talking about a guy that sings, is British, and looks good in leather; a completely lethal combination. (Fans myself dramatically.) And then he so suavely shows up out of nowhere to light Stephanie’s cigarette and you’re like, “Wow that’s exactly what I want in a man.” Except instead of a lighter you want a set of decent basketball tickets–or, okay–you guess you’ll settle for a decent flower.
I won’t tell you the ending, but when someone turns into a “cool rider”, you get the assurance you have always needed that in real life, guys will totally change for you because he did it for Stephanie out of his insatiable passionate love for her. That ideology may seem flawed but I promise this movie demonstrates the contrary.
If you don’t see it, you will never know who the cool rider is because it’s not blatantly obvious or even merely predictable honestly at all. Seriously, can you live with that? No. No I didn’t think so. So grab a boy (helloooooo Valentine’s Day is Friday?!), or if you can’t find one, grab your friends, matching jammies, a hairbrush (for the Cool Rider scene) and enjoy a night deciding what is truly worse, the bad music or the fact that you like it. Greaser.