Hairspray (***1/4)

Like Little Shop of Horrors and The Producers, Hairspray has made the rare circular journey from screen comedy to Broadway musical to screen musical. Directed by choreographer Adam Shankman, this new version stars newcomer Nikki Blonsky as bubbly, chubby Tracy Turnblad, whose dream is to dance on Baltimore’s hottest teen dance show. It’s 1962, and The Corny Collins Show is still reserved for “nice white kids.” Once a month, there is Negro Day, hosted by Motormouth Maybelle (Queen Latifah). Standing in Tracy’s way is the station manager (Michelle Pfeiffer), who doesn’t want either blacks or fat girls dancing.

Shankman’s non-musical credits include weak family comedies The Pacifier and Cheaper by the Dozen 2, but the slick patina he provides is just right for a musical, and it’s not as big of a deal that the re-worked plotting at the end isn’t exactly believable. What does remain from the 1988 John Waters movie is the sense of place and time. The prevalent pastels, teased hair, and other fashions help establish the scene, and the songs by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman owe a lot to girl-group hits like “Chapel of Love,” one of the songs seen on the Top 10 chart in the TV studio. Waters has said that he intentionally set his movie right before what most people think of as “the Sixties.” (Look for Waters as “the flasher who lives next door.”) Unlike with Grease, set slightly earlier, the Hairspray characters don’t feel like modern people in period couture. Thus, in a comically shocking aside, we see a pregnant woman drinking. Thus Tracy sings that she “won’t go all the way, but I’ll go pretty far.” The black characters, who seem relatively unidimensional, represent to the whites either a threat or something tantalizingly forbidden and cool, but they are apart either way. Social progress, not upheaval, is the order of the day.

The Broadway cast has been replaced, mostly by Hollywood pros like James Marsden as Corny Collins, Amanda Bynes as Tracy’s best friend, and Christopher Walken as Tracy’s dad. In the cross-dressing role of Tracy’s Mom, John Travolta may not be Divine, but he’s pretty good and, in a fat suit, looks a lot like Blonsky. He and Walken dance and sing in the movie’s most old-fashioned number, “(You’re) Timeless to Me.” Blonsky, plucked from community-theater obscurity, is a fine choice as buoyant Tracy. Possessed of a clear powerful voice, she sings what I thought were the most memorable tunes, including the opening “Good Morning Baltimore.” With nearly 20 songs crammed into two hours, I found myself slightly wearied by the time this ended, but overall it was a lot of fun.

IMDB link

written 7/27/07