John Waters' cult 1980s comedy returns to the big screen, this time as a musical based on the 2002 Broadway hit!!!
The Producers started a trend. Mel Brooks' 1968 farce, you'll recall, made a comeback in 2006 as a celluloid adaptation of its Broadway musical remake. Now Hairspray completes the same cyclical journey, returning to where it all began with a big-screen transfer of the stage show it spawned.
Much of the attention that will justifiably be heaped on Adam Shankman's film will inevitably focus on John Travolta's outrageous cross-dressing turn as the frumpy Edna Turnblad - a role played by Divine in the 1988 original that the Pulp Fiction star, with the help of a fat suit, beehive wig and a few tons of latex, hilariously makes his own.
Travolta gives an audacious performance - especially given the flack he took from gay activists who complained that Scientology disapproves of homosexuality - but the true star here is newcomer Nikki Blonsky. Plucked from obscurity with only a few high-school acting parts to her name, the Long Island native completely steals the show as bubbly heroine Tracy - a small, rotund bundle of fun we fall in love with the second she appears on screen singing exuberant opening number 'Good Morning Baltimore' from the top of a dump truck.
As fine as her voice is, dancing is Tracy's passion - especially if she can do it on 'The Corny Collins Show', the city's top-rated pop programme. Alas, her flabby frame doesn't suit the size-zero ideals of bitchy station manager Velma Von Tussle (Pfeiffer), especially as she's already lined up daughter Amber (Snow) to scoop the prestigious 'Miss Teenage Hairspray' crown. How Tracy contrives to secure a spot on the show, win the heart of teen heart-throb Link Larkin (Efron) and bring about some overdue racial integration forms the busy plot of a movie that still manages to cram in a dozen or more songs amongst its satirical intrigue.
With Christopher Walken providing priceless support as Tracy's jokeshop-owning father, Amanda Bynes an unlikely bonus as her prim pal Penny and Queen Latifah bringing brassy bravado to the role of Corny's reluctant co-host Motormouth Maybelle, there's not a weak link to be found in Shankman's stellar ensemble. And if the transition from stage to screen isn't quite as smooth as he might have been hoped, especially during a frenetic climax that tries to tie up too many plot strands, it's a small price to pay for a film that will have you walking out of the cinema wanting to hug the first fatso you lay eyes on.