Hairspray Review
By Joe Lozito
Just 'Do It
With the sour scent of 2005's hit-movie-turned-hit-musical-turned-lousy-movie "The Producers" still in the air, "Hairspray" had a lot to prove. What a relief then that Adam Shankman's adaptation of the Broadway musical, based on the 1988 John Waters film, is such a joy. Mr. Shankman, who directed and choreographed, perfectly captures the tone, pace and color scheme of those classic let's-put-on-a-show-in-our-parent's-barn musicals we haven't seen in a long time, and "Hairspray" is filled to the brim with fine performances, zippy musical numbers and John Travolta's stellar work in a fat suit.
Like the original film, "'spray" takes place in 1962 and follows young, "pleasantly plump" Tracy Turnblad (outstanding newcomer Nikki Blonsky), a Baltimore teen who yearns to dance on the Corny Collins Show (this was a John Waters movie, remember). From the period high school setting to the dance competition finale, "Hairspray" resembles no musical in recent memory more than the original "Grease". But "'spray" has something more to say - or at least scratch the surface of - about bigotry and prejudice. You see, thanks to its evil studio manager, Velma Von Tussle (Michelle Pfeiffer, still impossibly glamorous and, lest we forget, a graduate of "Grease 2"), the Corny Collins Show only allows black dancers one day a month during "Negro Day", which is led by Motormouth Maybelle (Queen Latifah, wonderful as always) who dreams of a future where "everyday is Negro Day". Constantly sentenced to detention for her twistin' ways, Tracy falls in with a group of black students who she finds "Afro-tastic" and with whom she dances detention away. Sooner than you can say "rhythm and blues", Tracy becomes a crusader for integration on the dance floor. The film is wise enough not to equate racism and weight-ism, it simply speaks to discrimination against anyone "different".
As is often the case in movie musicals, "Hairspray" loses steam in its final third as it works to tie up all its complications (including a preposterous love triangle subplot which could have been cut entirely), but the film has such a joyous spirit and fizzy soundtrack that it nearly sustains itself. The real revelation here is Ms. Blonsky who was plucked from Long Island's Great Neck High School for the film. From "Good Morning Baltimore" to "You Can't Stop the Beat", Ms. Blonsky's infectious smile and oversized charisma are impossible to resist. Equally stunning is Mr. Travolta's work as Tracy's mom Edna. In a complete 180 from his effective turn in the little-seen serial killer procedural
"Lonely Hearts", Mr. Travolta completely disappears in the role originated by John Waters mainstay Divine. Mr. Travolta wisely chooses not to mimic that original performance, nor does he channel Harvey Fierstein's Broadway turn. Instead, encased in a frighteningly realistic fat suit, Mr. Travolta is freed to tap into heretofore unseen reserves of comic physicality. After a few short scenes, you completely forget that you're seeing the former Danny Zuko as he literally becomes Edna.
Leslie Dixon's screenplay (based on Mark O'Donnell's musical play) also leaves ample time for the terrific supporting cast to strut their stuff. Christopher Walken is memorably stiff as Edna's husband Wilbur. Amanda Bynes plays the perfect airhead as Tracy's best bud, Penny Pingleton. And Zac Efron is appropriately dreamy as Tracy's love interest Link Larkin. But this is Ms. Blonsky's show and she knocks it out of the park. She and Mr. Travolta make a heck of a team. When mother and daughter finally get the chance to shake it together, it's as bittersweet a moment as you'd ever expect to find in a movie based on a musical based on a John Waters movie.
