Hairspray
Grade: A-
At long last, a movie musical that actually embraces being a movie musical.
Don’t get me wrong. “Chicago” brilliantly concealed its genre (every time someone started to sing, it was all taking place in Roxie’s head, remember) and “Dreamgirls” was about a singing group after all, but “Hairspray” is the first movie musical since the likes of “Oliver” that has people literally dancing in the streets and singing their hearts out for no other reason than, well, it’ s M-U-S-I-C-A-L.
Infectious. You’ll be constitutionally unable not to laugh, grin, tap your feet and swish your hips. Based on the splashy Broadway musical based on the cult John Water’s movie classic, in 1962 Baltimore fat girls win the hearts of heartthrob twinks, integration succeeds because its time has come, and anyone standing in the way of progress is either fired, squashed or otherwise humiliated. Joyously earnest, heartwarmingly innocent and yet more than a little tongue-in-cheek twisted, Director Adam Shankman takes the uncomplicated and winning path of transferring the stage show to the screen sans medium-altering rethinking, mass plot restructuring, or heavy-handed gimmickry. Opening up its locales without shutting down its heart, this one is a welcome throwback to the old style movie musical when studios wanted people to believe Broadway was being transported right to their local movie theater.
John Travolta. In the original film Divine was a campy freaky goddess as the story’s matriarch, in the original musical Harvey Fierstein brought that singing voice that is like no other - for which we are eternally grateful, love him though we do. Travolta brings a rather odd, Baltimore-by-way-of the midwest accent and a much softer touch to the role of Edna Turnblad, a zaftig wife and mother who has let her poor self-image imprison her while the world outside has passed her by. When she finally frees herself and explodes onto the scene, only Tina Turner can compare in costume, exuberance and intensity. Just try not to clap your hands and hoot with pleasure, I just dare ya’.
Michelle Pfeiffer is obviously having a ball as a station manager with both racism and weightism in her heart, and though not quite as vocally robust as her stage predecessors, Queen Latifah still has soul to spare as the one-day-a-month hostess of the local station’s “Negro Day.” But James Marsden is the real surprise here as the station’s singing, swinging, tooth-beaming answer to Dick Clark. (Should you ever leave your wife, James…call me ;) Only Christopher Walken falls flat, as he is simply too weird to pass for a song and dance man – and that’s really saying something when your female dance partner is John Travolta.
Newcomers Nikki Blonsky, Elijah Kelley and Zac Efron (yeah, I love “High School Musical” too, but don’t even dare try and tell me he’s not a newcomer) give the more seasoned veterans a run for their money with strong pipes and personalities to match. Hitchcockian cameos by original film Director John Waters and stars Ricki Lake and Jerry Stiller add to the fun. The score by Marc Shaiman (who also manages himself a cameo) and Scott Wittman is a catchy, witty, period pastiche with a big belting Broadway heart thumping underneath – you will want the original soundtrack if you don’t already own the original cast album. Some of us will want both. (“Mama, I’m A Big Girl Now,” runs during the credits featuring the song stylings of Blonsky, Lake, and original Broadway star Marissa Jaret Winokur – even Harvey makes a cameo vocal appearance.)
It was just a few short years ago that the time of the movie musical was thought to be dead and buried. Happily, stopping people from singing and dancing onscreen is like, oh I don’t know, trying to stop the “motion of the ocean or the sun in the sky.” You simply can’t stop the beat.
At long last, a movie musical that actually embraces being a movie musical.
Don’t get me wrong. “Chicago” brilliantly concealed its genre (every time someone started to sing, it was all taking place in Roxie’s head, remember) and “Dreamgirls” was about a singing group after all, but “Hairspray” is the first movie musical since the likes of “Oliver” that has people literally dancing in the streets and singing their hearts out for no other reason than, well, it’ s M-U-S-I-C-A-L.
Infectious. You’ll be constitutionally unable not to laugh, grin, tap your feet and swish your hips. Based on the splashy Broadway musical based on the cult John Water’s movie classic, in 1962 Baltimore fat girls win the hearts of heartthrob twinks, integration succeeds because its time has come, and anyone standing in the way of progress is either fired, squashed or otherwise humiliated. Joyously earnest, heartwarmingly innocent and yet more than a little tongue-in-cheek twisted, Director Adam Shankman takes the uncomplicated and winning path of transferring the stage show to the screen sans medium-altering rethinking, mass plot restructuring, or heavy-handed gimmickry. Opening up its locales without shutting down its heart, this one is a welcome throwback to the old style movie musical when studios wanted people to believe Broadway was being transported right to their local movie theater.
John Travolta. In the original film Divine was a campy freaky goddess as the story’s matriarch, in the original musical Harvey Fierstein brought that singing voice that is like no other - for which we are eternally grateful, love him though we do. Travolta brings a rather odd, Baltimore-by-way-of the midwest accent and a much softer touch to the role of Edna Turnblad, a zaftig wife and mother who has let her poor self-image imprison her while the world outside has passed her by. When she finally frees herself and explodes onto the scene, only Tina Turner can compare in costume, exuberance and intensity. Just try not to clap your hands and hoot with pleasure, I just dare ya’.
Michelle Pfeiffer is obviously having a ball as a station manager with both racism and weightism in her heart, and though not quite as vocally robust as her stage predecessors, Queen Latifah still has soul to spare as the one-day-a-month hostess of the local station’s “Negro Day.” But James Marsden is the real surprise here as the station’s singing, swinging, tooth-beaming answer to Dick Clark. (Should you ever leave your wife, James…call me ;) Only Christopher Walken falls flat, as he is simply too weird to pass for a song and dance man – and that’s really saying something when your female dance partner is John Travolta.
Newcomers Nikki Blonsky, Elijah Kelley and Zac Efron (yeah, I love “High School Musical” too, but don’t even dare try and tell me he’s not a newcomer) give the more seasoned veterans a run for their money with strong pipes and personalities to match. Hitchcockian cameos by original film Director John Waters and stars Ricki Lake and Jerry Stiller add to the fun. The score by Marc Shaiman (who also manages himself a cameo) and Scott Wittman is a catchy, witty, period pastiche with a big belting Broadway heart thumping underneath – you will want the original soundtrack if you don’t already own the original cast album. Some of us will want both. (“Mama, I’m A Big Girl Now,” runs during the credits featuring the song stylings of Blonsky, Lake, and original Broadway star Marissa Jaret Winokur – even Harvey makes a cameo vocal appearance.)
It was just a few short years ago that the time of the movie musical was thought to be dead and buried. Happily, stopping people from singing and dancing onscreen is like, oh I don’t know, trying to stop the “motion of the ocean or the sun in the sky.” You simply can’t stop the beat.
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More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0427327/
posted by SternReviews @ 8:03 PM
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