Hairspray

If you rent Hairspray expecting to see a naked hitchhiker, a raping giant lobster, or a turd-eating transvestite, you may be disappointed. Hairspray represents more mainstream John Waters fare, but the inspired casting itself will warrant a look for this 1988 film. This will be the last Waters film for Divine, as he/she died shortly after this project was completed. And that really is Ricki Lake of trash talk show fame starring as chunky teen dance queen Tracy.


Synopsis

Waters sets the story in his beloved Baltimore in 1963 where Tracy dances in front of her TV daily fantasizing that she can appear on The Corny Collins Show, a localized version of American Band Stand where the popular white kids with piled up hair dance and become celebrities. Once a month the show allows a Soul Train style dancing segment run by Motormouth Maybell (played by blues/soul singer Ruth Brown), but the producers of the show insist that Baltimore is not ready for integrated dancing.

These are the early hopeful Kennedy 60's when Leslie Gore and Chubby Checker songs were on more teenage minds than anti-war protesting and hippie culture. Tracy gets a tryout, gets selected to the show, and is named to the semi-democratic teen Council that advises Corny on musical matters. Tracy fulfills her dream even though reigning teen queen Amber (Coleen Fitzpatrick) attempts to sabotage her with "fat" questions, spreads rumors that she is a whore, and claims that she has cockroaches in her tossed hair.

Tracy's beehive hairdo does get her into trouble with her geometry teacher, who blames her for blocking the view of the short kid sitting behind her. Thus, Tracy is humorously sentenced to special education classes where she fits in perfectly with all the misplaced African American students who know how to dance. One of the funnier scenes occurs when the class faces a humiliating dodge ball game against a regular class that laughs at these "special education" students.

Tracy is likeable in her role. She even dances quite well. It's surprising to see the relatively think talk show host that exploits the sleazy side of humanity play a "pleasantly plump," positive, bouncy, and righteous type of character that we want to win in the end.


Social Messages?

There are blatant social messages communicated through the racial integration storyline, climaxed with the gate crashing during Corny Collins day at the local amusement park, but the more subtle one could be a wish fulfillment for John Waters that other "outsiders" will recognize. There is absolutely no way that Waters could have been accepted into any popular teen council; likewise, there is no way that the cheerful and outgoing Tracy would have been accepted either despite her superior dancing skills. "Fat" kids who believed strongly in integration in 1963 Baltimore simply would never realistically be selected to such a council.

The social commentary is very superficial, so it's more effective to enjoy this lightweight film for the comedy touches. And many of these are accomplished through some creative casting. Ricki Lake's performance is surprisingly good, but the ensemble cast supplies many of the laughs.


"Small" Pleasures

Divine plays her/his most sophisticated roles as both Edna Turnblad and Arvin Hodgepile. Edna tolerates her daughter's dancing fantasies while continually ironing clothes and gets really excited at Tracy's success and the chance to get free extra large polyester clothing with her daughter serving as spokesmodel for the Hefty Hideaway. While Edna stretches the polyester to its maximum and brings a few smiles for her subtle humor, Divine dons some extra large men's clothing on to portray racist and humorless station manager Arvin Hodgepile.

The single scene that gave me the greatest chuckles is the one where overly protective Mrs. Pingleton (Jo Ann Havrilla) obsessively follows her daughter in a taxi and gets out to discover to her horror that she is in the black section of Baltimore. Watch her terrified face when she encounters the harmless wino, and laugh when she confronts Motormouth Maybell when she demands, "Don't you try any of your voodoo on me, you native woman!"

Very close to that is a great little scene with singer Ric Ocasec playing a Beatnik Cat and Pia Zadora playing a Beatnik chick. Zadora gives Lake some advice to become a serious integrationist by recommending ironing her hair and explaining, "When I'm high, I AM Odetta. Let's get naked and smoke!" We leave Zadora hilariously quoting from Allen Ginsberg's "Howl."

Effective cameos by Debbie Harry and Sonny Bono portraying Amber's racist and overly indulgent parents and by John Waters himself, as a crazed psychiatrist fond of hypnotic pinwheels and florescent cattle prods for therapy, all supply additional enjoyment.

I can't say that Hairspray is a great film, but it certainly has a few quirky pleasures. It can serve as a harmless appetizer for John Waters' works, as it is actually rated PG, but it won't prepare you sufficiently to see Pink Flamingos, Mondo Trasho, or Multiple Maniacs. Hairspray qualifies as a tame enough film to show your parents, yet has enough subtle references that allow you to not feel really "square" by watching it. You'll need to be a lot more selective with your audience if you try any of Waters' earlier films.