Exuberant musical 'Hairspray' hits all the right notes

HAIRSPRAY
Rating: 3 stars out of 5
CAST: John Travolta, Michelle Pfeiffer, Nikki Blonsky, Christopher Walken
DIRECTOR: Adam Shankman
RUNNING TIME: 1 hour, 47 minutes
INDUSTRY RATING: PG for language, some suggestive content and momentary teen smoking.

Exorbitance is always fashionable in summer films, so it shouldn't be surprising that a colorful, campy musical like "Hairspray" could appeal to an audience as much as the computer effects-laden action blockbusters that have saturated theaters recently.What may come as a small shock, however, is that this counterprogramming is a toe-tapping delight worthy of accolades usually reserved for films that come out during more traditionally serious months.

"Hairspray" looks fondly at America's naivete through the eyes of Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky), a plump teenager living a near-invisible existence in 1960s Baltimore. Tracy, sporting a Jackie Kennedy-esque bouffant hairdo, is undaunted by the petty comments of slimmer girls that often derail the self-esteem of girls her size these days.

Her aspirations are to dance and sing on "The Corny Collins Show," a local after-school variety program that features teenagers who look like Aryan models.

Tracy's fantasy is supported by her wimpy father, Wilbur (Christopher Walken), but terrifies her agoraphobic mother, Edna (John Travolta). When she tries out for the dance program, she's immediately marginalized by Velma Von Tussle (Michelle Pfeiffer), the Cruella de Vil who manages the show and is grooming her own diva daughter (Brittany Snow) for the spotlight.

But Tracy impresses the younger contingent, including her not-so-secret crush, Link Larkin (Zac Efron), when she borrows the dance moves of her black school friends at a post-tryout bash.

Tracy becomes a local sensation, which emboldens her to challenge Velma's bigotry by organizing a pro-integration march with Motormouth Maybelle (Queen Latifah), the hostess of the defunct "Negro Day," which was formerly featured monthly on the "Corny Collins Show."

This story, of one girl refusing to bend to the will of a myopic authority, is mainly the brainchild of director John Waters, who wrote and directed the original 1988 film. The controversial filmmaker probably saw his version of "Hairspray" as a satire of those teenage movies that ramrod their social messages.

Adapting the original "Hairspray" into a Broadway musical and then back into a mainstream film likely diluted Mr. Waters's original intent. Before "Hairspray," the filmmaker had challenged the decency of almost everyone - and everything - with his NC-17 rated camp/trash classics like "Pink Flamingos."

"Hairspray" was the con job that Mr. Waters pulled on the mainstream by continuing to be subversive, only this time in a PG setting.

Mr. Waters cast the transsexual Divine as his Edna, whereas Adam Shankman opted for John Travolta. Mr. Travolta will elicit a lot fewer questions about gender roles from the younger audience, which is just one of the ways this version of "Hairspray" is more homogenized than the original.

I'm not faulting Mr. Travolta for not being any more androgynous than he can possibly make himself. He gives cross-dressing his best effort and wholeheartedly embraces his return to musicals, latex fat suit and all.

Edna is either the most courageous - or most embarrassing - thing Mr. Travolta has ever done. The verdict may be out for a while, although I'm inclined to favor courage if only because I've watched him in calamities like "Battlefield Earth" and "Lucky Numbers."

Mr. Travolta is partly responsible, however, for the only musical dud in the film, "(You're) Timeless to Me," a chaste duet with Mr. Walken. While it appears Mr. Travolta was forced to warble his lines because of his 30 pounds of padding, I'll blame the big-band arrangement, which strays more toward chintzy than electrifying.

It is Ms. Blonsky, a newcomer to both stage and screen, who makes the best impression during the remaining tunes. She isn't a manic diva subjecting audiences to the kinds of caterwauling we endured in "Dreamgirls." Instead, her character's boundless optimism translates well into charming solos like "Good Morning Baltimore" and "I Can Hear the Bells."

At the risk of offending the sensibilities of a "Hairspray" purist, who will believe that any new songs are automatically inferior, I'd say "Ladies' Choice," with its Bo Diddley beat, had my feet tapping the most.

The "Hairspray" songs are not only catchy, they're sprinkled with humor. The advance screening audience was howling with laughter over little nuggets like Penny Pingleton's (Amanda Bynes) vow of love for her new black boyfriend. "Now that I've tasted chocolate," the pigtailed girl sings straight-faced, "I'm never going back."

If that suggestive reference sails right by your children, I'd wholeheartedly recommend this film for the whole family.

Man of the Year (2006)

Universal Pictures presents a Barry Levinson film, starring Robin Williams and Christopher Walken. Written by Levinson. 115m. PG-13 for language including some crude sexual references.

2 stars

Barry Levinson delivered a powerful satire of political chicanery with “Wag the Dog.” But there’s no punch to his newest send-up, “Man of the Year,” in which a comedian is elected president after a voting machine glitch.

Ostensibly billed as a platform for Robin Williams’ politically-orientated shtick, Levinson’s film is instead a scattershot of tangential subplots that cribs from many genres. If you’ve come to see Williams perform for two hours, I can assure you now that you’ve been duped by a deviously cut trailer.

Or, you can just stay for the first 20 minutes. That’s about the time it takes Tom Dobbs (Williams), the host of a politically-themed late-night talk show, to initiate his humorous run at the presidency.

Unfortunately, the challenge is without substance. In Levinson’s apparent attempt to deflect suggestion of any specific political agenda, Dobbs is equipped with a namby-pamby platform.

In reality, Bill Maher, the former host of “Politically Incorrect,” was probably considered unelectable for any office after comparing retarded children to dogs or saying American soldiers were “cowardly” in comparison to al-Qaeda terrorists. But Maher also routinely espouses a libertarian viewpoint, which he defends regularly from critics on both the right and left with well-reasoned arguments.

Dobbs derides a weakening education system and the corrupting influence of lobbyists, two issues that are hardly fractionalizing Congress these days. And the comedian suggests that Republicans and Democrats are essentially interchangeable, meaning either he doesn’t live in this world or his show is not as politically savvy as it’s made out to be.

Levinson’s cowardice in providing Dobbs with a generic platform does strengthen the subplot about voting machine irregularities, however. How else could we believe this candidate would carry both a historically red state like Texas and a blue state like New York?

Again, in reality, this improbable win would have been placed under a microscope by the mainstream media. But Levinson, who skewered the press for its lemming-like approach to news in “Wag the Dog,” essentially neuters them in “Man of the Year.”

The press corps celebrates, not marginalizes, Dobbs on the campaign trail. They applaud him when he violates debate decorum and runs roughshod over the other candidates, instead of paring down his tirade into its most unflattering 30 seconds and looping it endlessly on their 24 hour networks.

Dobbs, third on all major pre-election polls and only on 13 state ballots, should have been considered as politically relevant as Dennis Kucinich. But instead he’s given wall-to-wall coverage, as if he actually is an impetus to significant reforms.

Levinson also preys on our collective insecurity about the unreliability of electronic voting machines to fuel his second plot, in which the obsessive Eleanor Green (Laura Linney) discovers that her company’s system can’t correctly tabulate the millions of votes cast.

Eleanor becomes the prime component in a suspense film that surprisingly germinates in the downtime between Williams’ ad-libs. While Linney does an admirable job with the character, we’re quickly frustrated by Eleanor’s mounting paranoia and inability to relay her concerns to Dobbs. Her subplot also slows a budding momentum created through several delightful rapid-fire exchanges between Dobbs, his manager (Christopher Walken) and his head writer (the always enjoyable, but angry Lewis Black).

With three weeks left before mid-term elections, Levinson had the perfect opportunity to make a satire which really made a statement. Instead, “Man of the Year” feels easily distracted and acts completely disinterested in addressing any real problems facing voters. Suffice to say, this wasn’t the weekend substitution for “The Daily Show” that we were hoping for.