Hairspray Movie Review

The Right Direction

    Hairspray premiered on my thirtieth birthday, July 20, 2007. I was sure it was a sign—a sign that yes, indeed, I was now old. I remember watching the 1988 version as a teenager and loving it. At thirty, I recalled that feeling of love for the original movie and was excited about the prospect of the new musical version of Hairspray with an all-star cast and a hip new beat. I went back and watched the 1988 movie and winced throughout the entire monstrosity. I wondered at my mindset as a teenager and how I could have enjoyed such a movie. Hairspray, 1988's style is gritty, dirty and crass with the Amber character frequently calling Tracy (Ricki Lake) a "whore" and screaming like a banshee that Tracy "has roaches in her hair." I found myself poorly attempting to justify why I liked it not only to myself but to my boyfriend who looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I am ashamed that I held the 1988 original in such high esteem for so many years. The story line remains the same, but it's difficult to compare the vulgarity of the original 1988 movie to the fun and lively beat to the revamped 2007 musical version.

    I watched Hairspray (2007) with my eldest daughter, Blythe, when it came out on DVD and loved every second of it. Even if you don't like musicals, it has a type of universal appeal—regardless of the viewer's age or gender. The humor is clever, quick-witted and well placed as it weaves its way in and out of song. It is lively, energetic and flows together from start to finish leaving me smiling and feeling optimistic. The acting is superb throughout and the dance numbers urge you to get up and dance along. The underlying meaning from the original movie is still present; acceptance and integration overcoming prejudice and segregation.

    Hairspray is set in 1962 where an unlikely heroine, pleasantly plump teenager Tracy Turnblad (newcomer Nikki Blonsky) launches the movie with a rousing rendition of "Good Morning Baltimore" on her way to school. She dances through the streets of Baltimore, passing a streaker that lives next door (writer John Waters), and bleary eyed drunks in the bar (yes at 8 AM, some people are that dedicated to their craft). Stopping to shake her rump outside the bus stop, she misses the bus. She arrives at school on top of a garbage truck finishing the song in an energetic fashion.

    Tracy and her best friend, Penny Pingleton, (Amanda Bynes) dash home after school to dance along to The Corny Collins Show, a program similar to American Bandstand. The teen dancers known as the council introduce themselves with song and dance to the "Nicest (White) Kids in Town." Amber VonTussle (Brittany Snow) and Link Larkin (Zac Efron) are the show's lead dancers and off-screen couple. Tracy ogles Link as if he's the last piece of pie, and dreams of a future as Mrs. Link Larkin. Corny Collins (James Marsden) announces that a council member is taking a leave of absence for nine months, and the station is hosting open auditions for a place on the council. Tracy skips school the following day to audition and is heckled by Amber and her mother, producer Velma VonTussle (Michelle Pfeiffer). Tracy is promptly dismissed after answering that she would indeed swim in an integrated pool, "It's the new frontier."

    Tracy aspires to be President or a Rockette, but first she intends to be lead dancer on The Corny Collins Show! She's got the moves to all the right beats and is put on the show by Corny himself, bypassing Velma. Tracy faces adversaries—a close-minded and manipulative Velma and her 'mini-me' daughter Amber. They are willing to do whatever it takes to make sure Tracy doesn't steal the show, Link's affection and most importantly, the title of Miss Teenage Hairspray. After all, Velma was once Miss Baltimore Crabs, though she admittedly screwed the judges to get there. Velma is against integration—deviously attempting to steer Baltimore youth in the "white direction." Tracy is all for integration and becomes a popular dancer on the show despite Amber and Velma's machinations. Tracy's dad, Wilbur (Christopher Walken) starts selling Tracy memorabilia like hotcakes out of his Hardy Har Hut. Girls buy bouffant wigs just like Tracy's real hair and clamor to get into detention—a place Tracy frequents. Tracy is sent to detention in the 2007 version by a teacher due to hair height. In the 1988 version she is sent to Special Education by the principal for the same infraction. She fights back accusing him of putting her in a class with "Black kids you try to hold back and retards."

True to form, a man was cast as Edna Turnblad, Tracy's mother. In the original 1988 version, Divine, a popular drag queen first played the role of Edna. In the Broadway adaptation Harvey Fierstein continued the tradition. In the 2007 musical spectacular, John Travolta takes the character to a whole new level. John Travolta in a fat suit as Edna is brilliant as he gives her a depth not seen in the original movie. Edna is an agoraphobic laundress who has not been out of the house since the early 1950's, when she was a size eight. With little understanding of Tracy's dreams, Edna scolds herself when Tracy lands a dancing role on The Corny Collins Show. She soon leaves the house to act as Tracy's agent at Mr. Pinky's Hefty Hideaway upon Tracy's insistence ("Welcome to the 60's"). Edna dances into the limelight at the end of the show, showing that John Travolta still has the moves and reminding us all not to get in her way when she sees a Christmas ham!

    Queen Latifah's performance as Motormouth Maybelle is inspiring. She stepped into the role as if it was made for her. Maybelle is hostess of Negro Day, owner of a record shop and mother to Seaweed and Lil' Inez. She cringes as she thanks Negro Day's sponsor, "Napaway: every kink will be gone in a blink!" and I cringe with her. She is astounding as she sings "I know where I've been" during the march after Negro Day is cancelled; the solemnity and beauty of the song giving me chills.

    Zac Efron dances into the role of Link Larkin, Tracy's love interest, with ease from his High School Musical days. It's refreshing to watch a show where the teen heartthrob is infatuated with the heavy girl—one who has more personality than a room full of shallow, attractive beauties. I find myself disappointed in his character when he refuses to join Tracy in the march, but he more than makes up for it in the finale.

The musical is not only about an overweight teenager overcoming stereotypical standards to be a dancer on The Corny Collins Show; it also addresses facing adversity head on. Tracy's character knowingly gives up her dream of dancing on television by joining the march against the station on an issue that resonates in our American history. The bravery of people who stood up for their beliefs and refused to be trod upon leaves me in awe.

Can you imagine what it must have taken for Rosa Parks to not give up her seat? Or what Martin Luther King Jr. went through to become a face recognized as a vital part of the civil rights movement? Can you imagine not being able to dance with people of other races, go to school with them, or talk to them without fear of censure? For many it's hard to imagine. This Musical addresses the civil rights issues of our American history boldly and does so marvelously. As Blythe and I watched she wondered, aloud, why the black kids and white kids couldn't dance together. The movie opened up a conversation and led into a micro history lesson. Blythe said to me, "But Mama, we are all the same inside even if our skin is a different color outside." It is amazing that America has come this far in forty years.

Tracy isn't closed-minded and doesn't see color. She enjoys life, dancing and singing. Her character is fair-minded and has depth. She says to Wilbur before the march, "I thought that fairness was just going to happen. It's not. I have to stand up and fight for what's right." It makes me proud to have her as a role model for my little girl rather than the unattainable and unhealthy thinness of today's models and movie stars. Many Americans struggle with their weight, so having this chubby little vivacious girl as the forefront star of the show is uplifting! The musical is significant because whether you are an overweight teenager, struggling with racial inequality, or denied rights because of sexual orientation, it all comes down to the same thing: We are all human and our humanity can only benefit if we were more accepting of each other.