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On it’s
surface, the new film musical “Hairspray” is a lively, energetic,
feel-good romp of a film.
The
story, as in the original John Waters film and the 2002 Broadway stage
version, concerns the efforts of unflappable plus-size girl Tracy Turnblad to integrate the really keen local TV dance
party show in 1960’s Baltimore.
Tracy
is played with irresistible zest and energy by the very talented Nikki Blonsky. She and her best friend Penny Pingleton (gifted comedienne Amanda Bynes- hilarious even when she’s just hanging out at
the edge of the frame) rush home from school every day to catch The Corny
Collins Show, and dream of the day they can meet their heroes, especially
the yummy Link Larkin (Zac Efron
of “High School Musical” fame).
That
day arrives when one of the teen stars of the show is placed on “hiatus”
(for nine months) and open auditions are announced, with the host’s
recommendation that you “cut school and come on down”. The irrepressible
Tracy is one great dancer, and, despite the best efforts of shallow
Bitch-Gone-Wild ex-beauty queen station manager Velma Von Tussle
(Michelle Pfeiffer- game and well cast), and with a little help from the
aw-shucks open-mindedness of teen dream Link, Tracy’s wild moves and
positive energy overcome her less than perfect-for-TV physique and land
her the gig.
If it
all sounds unbelievably clichéd and derivative, it certainly is. But it’s
played for high camp; tongues are firmly in cheek, and the musical
numbers are performed with great style (as is the fantastic production
design of the 1960’s Baltimore neighborhood), energetic choreography, and
high energy by all involved. Honestly, I sat there with a big smile on my
face and my toes tapping throughout the entire film.
But…
just where did Tracy learn all of those hot new moves she used to wow the
crowd at the Dance Party? This is where the trouble begins, both for Tracy
and for the film.
Let’s
back up. When the chronically inattentive Tracy is sent to detention for
her lack of interest in her school lessons, what does she find there?
BLACK PEOPLE! In fact, every student in detention is Black; every last
one of them. It certainly caught me by surprise, and started me thinking;
is the film maker saying that detention is all African Americans because
they were sent there by racially insensitive teachers? We’ll never know,
because there they are and that’s the end of that. Let’s move on.
Needless to say the Black kids are all the coolest, the hippest, the
mellowest group in school (for all I know they ate water-melon and fried
chicken, as well). They have the coolest moves, and, upon entering
detention, Tracy finds them slouching around, sitting on their desks,
listening to the radio and dancing. It’s from these kids that Tracy
learns her winning moves.
So
Tracy becomes a star, and uses her newfound status to suggest integrating
the show (they already have “Negro Day” once a month). Apparently,
judging by the crowd reaction in later scenes, everyone in Baltimore
would just love that idea, but those pesky white people in power are
throwing up roadblocks at every turn. So, Velma not only says no to that
but, gasp, cancels Negro Day as well. Indignity abounds, and Tracy and
her friends decide to take it to the street.
The
rest goes pretty much as you’d expect; the kids stand up to bigotry and
close-mindedness, the show is integrated, the populace loves it, and a
good time is had by all. The problem is that at some point a nagging idea
begins to enter your consciousness; is this corny, fun film is using the
civil rights movement as nothing more than a plot device? An air of
cynicism starts to pervade the proceedings. The stereotypical traits
assigned the African American characters undermine the message the film
purports to convey. A comparison to one of the great musicals, Show Boat,
is apt; where the minority characters in “Hairspray” are ciphers and
symbols used to move along a plot that is ultimately concerned only in
the outcome for it’s leading white character, Showboat’s characters, Jim,
Magnolia, Miss Julie, are living, breathing people effected by the
cruelty and small-mindedness of their time. Our interest is in how they
deal with their adversity, not in how the adversity inflicted on them
motivates others. They are not symbols representing an aggrieved group of
people, but individuals who are worthy of or concern and respect. The
sense that the film is ultimately using the civil rights/integration
issue as a mere plot device could have been avoided. Some attempt could
have been made to show as much interest in one or two of the African
American characters as is shown in a number of the white characters. Travolta, Walken,
Pfeiffer, Blonsky, and Bynes
all acquit themselves well in various ways. Their characters have quirks
and depth; in fact, the film celebrates their uniqueness. That the
film-makers were apparently unable to find, or worse, were uninterested
in finding, unique and interesting personalities amongst their African
American characters demeans both their film and it’s message.
There
is a lot to recommend “Hairspray”. Travolta's
standing as a dancing pop-icon is used to good effect, and Walken's dense naivety is endearing. Bynes is effortlessly hilarious, and Marsden (Corny Collins) captures the smarmy MC
perfectly. Hairspray's performances and choreography are fun, energetic,
cheerful, and, at times, witty. It’s too bad that it couldn’t take it’s
own message to heart.
Disagree? Something to add? E-mail me and
I’ll post your responses!
bob@bcspage.com
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