THE film version of Grease, the incarnation of Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey’s 1971 musical which rewarded John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John with hall-of-fame idolatry, is about to hit 40.

Its underlying tinge of melancholy grows stronger by the decade, although this lengthy tour, with its smattering of boyband and primetime talent show stardust, has little time for plangent notes. What it provides is a succession of bombastic renditions embodying the spirit of the irrepressibly feelgood original.

Playing for laughs at this speed is a difficult trick to execute slickly, and Director David Gilmore navigates his cast through a classic with only a few unconvincing moments. Arlene Phillips’ choreography would shimmer given the dullest script to work with, and here it’s a study in poise and playfulness, achieved among smoke machines and shadows.

Andreane Neofitou accomplishes an unenviable mission in the wardrobe department, where the relentless costume changes often result in a certain lack of the stand-out kitsch which shot the original outfits to catwalk immortality.

Gold and silver space-like outfits and a seemingly endless haul of multicoloured swing dresses are offset by the timeless black leather jackets and Levi’s of the gang, led by The Wanted’s Tom Parker, whose enthusiasm for his stage debut is as fizzy as the bubbles being downed in the aisles.

There’s a winningly immersive feel to the 1950s diners and schoolrooms, across which Louisa Lytton gives a jubilant display of heartfelt song and resolute hopefulness as Rizzo. The live band, too, prove impressively charismatic, turned out in red smoking jackets to soundtrack all the singalongs from on high.

If the fake cigarettes and empty wine bottles look a little inauthentic, they’re redeemed by the arrival of the Dodge Wayfarer. As a vehicle for the capering of Parker’s Danny, it’s a symbol of the exuberant nostalgia this show sweetly captures.