Hairspray

Susan Granger’s review of “Hairspray” (2002-2003 season)

In 1962, Baltimore, “The Corny Collins Show” (the local “American Bandstand”) reigns. White kids compete for prizes as they dance to rock ‘n’ roll music. Black kids have a chance only on “Negro Day.” At least that’s the case until Tracy Turnblad (Marissa Jaret Winokur), a plump, perky white rebel, teams up with Seaweed J. Stubs (Corey Reynolds), son of a black DJ (Mary Bond Davis), to break the dance-floor color barrier epitomized by her beautiful blonde teen-queen rival, Amber Von Tussle (Laura Bell Bundy). So much for aerosol-fueled social satire.
Inspired by John Waters’ clever, off-beat 1988 film, this Broadway musical, adapted by Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan, lacks the brazen goofiness of the movie while retaining the campy concept of a comic fairy tale, particularly in the cross-gender casting. In the movie, Ricki Lake made Tracy believable, while her mother was played by female impersonator Divine; here, that role is outrageously vamped by Harvey Fierstein. Waters wallows in excessively tacky tawdriness, and the audience seems to love it. Far more than I did. Admittedly, director Jack O’Brien generates an ingratiatingly energetic, exuberant ensemble, augmented by David Rockwell’s candy-colored sets, William Ivey Long’s costumes and Paul Huntley’s wigs. Problem is: while generating the ’60s ambiance, no one seems to be living in that era. They’re far too smug with their underlying lack of prejudice and penchant for bad taste. The Marc Shaiman/Scott Wittman score literally lacks soul, peppered with bouncy but recycled tunes. Plus, at two hours, 40 minutes, it’s far too long. All in all, “Hairspray” is mere shpritz in the pantheon of musicals-adapted-from-movies like “The Full Monty,””Thoroughly Modern Millie” and “The Producers.”

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