I didn't vote for 'em.
Yes, I did watch that show; as a cultural journalist and someone who knows a thing or two about the demands of musical theater, I felt it my responsibility to "weigh in on the casting process," as it were. Though I did give these two a vote here and there, my final votes were for "Hot Danny" Austin Miller and "Ballerina Sandy" Ashley Spencer, who have managed to go on to other and better things, respectively.
I haven't seen this revival production of Grease, having already been scarred by the 1994 revival. (The awesome factor of seeing Lucy "Warrior Princess" Lawless up close and personal was far outweighed by the inspirationless crap that is the book of that musical. When Aristotle was writing The Poetics, it must've slipped his mind to include a bit about not writing any scene that starts, "Hey, what's that song you're playing on your guitar? Why don't you sing it for us?") However, seeing those weekly performances, I can understand the criticism of the TV-cast leads.
Max Crumm was a good singer, but only hinted at any sexy bad boy charisma during his cover of the Black Crowes' Hard to Handle. If the reviews are to be believed, it was only by channeling Chris Robinson that he could let that out. Original front-runner Derek Keeling (now cast in his own Broadway-bound show) had that charisma in spades, but a really embarrassing cracked note during a duet lost the competition for him. (I can personally attest to his smoldering hotness, as most of the semi-finalists came in to MTC to rehearse for a benefit while I was still working there.) Even Austin Miller, who sets off my gaydar like an issue of HX magazine, could sex up the ladies on stage better than Crumm. Unfortunately for Miller, his "I was a fat kid" sob story couldn't beat Crumm's "I suffered from facial paralysis" sob story. The audience looooooves a good, tough childhood.
Laura Osnes was cute and sweet, but she held notes oddly, bringing a strange vocal phrasing to her work. The judges and audiences flipped out during her version of Jesus Christ Superstar; as a devotee to the original concept album, I couldn't handle anyone but Murray Head on the vocals. (Yes, he's the same guy who sang that ridiculous One Night in Bangkok song; his searing work on JCS will obliterate that memory for you.) Meanwhile, Ashley Spencer was blonde, gorgeous, and had a strong, beautiful voice; she was the superior Sandy in every way. Of course, to the winner go the spoils, and to the loser goes the better Broadway vehicle.
Yes, folks, I have just devoted an entire post to a subject which the "serious theater bloggers" wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Does that make me less of a critic/blogger - or just earthier, and more in touch with the common person? I choose the latter.
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