A time existed, not that very long ago, when musicals did more then bring tourists to New York City. The pop standards, still found on the occasion internet radio, were brought the public in these small wonders. Songs covered almost every allowable topic--but mostly the important stuff, you know, love. And people would pay to hear the songs they could hear for free on the radio (or the internet) and maybe sing along.
That was the power of the musical.
It never really went away, either. The sixties brought Hair, and ability for the audience to understand what the boomers were going through; the sevenites brough A Chorus Line and the audience could understand teh angst of very show before them. The message, of course, was neatly tucked away behind a delicious hummable tune of happily rhyming words or powerful, emotional ballads. All approachable by the wiling ear.
That, too, was teh power of the musical.
Broadway is an interesting place--using audience's knowledge to drag them back to teh Great White Way and justify their ticket purchase by using a topic they are already familiar with--movies. I can't say this is a bad thing. It means, finally, the tourists are returning. And sometimes, jsut sometimes, the musical improves on the source movie.
Look at The Lion King. Decent Disney flick, not classic. But the playwrights took it to a new level and made it a celebration of the stage using cultural references and puppest that the audience had never experienced before. Children were aware of the Disney label going into the house; they left with the potential that musical theatre carries.
Which brings us to this review--Hairspray. The origianl movie I saw in my teen years. A tale from my personal fave, Jon Waters, it mocked the world in which I lived in.
And what teenager can say no to being against the establishment?
In this case, a daily, early 60's television dance program had fully white dancers bopping to fully white music. But the times hadn't changed. African Americans were marching for equal representation. A young, portly young lady, named Tracy Turnblatt decides she wants to buck the scene. She is not the standard of television beauty; and her friends are black. She was going to get on that show and shake everything down.
It was Waters at his best. It used the medium of film to carry a heavy message in a wave of comedic commentary.
The movie could have been iimrpoved on.
But some dancers and musicains saw tehree was a chance to improve. They made it into a musical in NYC in 2002. It was a hit. THe message was sstill there and still strong, but it was easier to digest. Now it was mixed in with the same ditty tunes that helped carry the message as the audience exited humming.
it was only a matter of time before a movie was made.
And it's a good one. For the same reasons as mentioned.
It is, quite possibly, the best movie of the summer. It is very hard to contain this movie. The smiles are broad on the actors as much as on the audience--ironic, considering the messsage--one about intergration and racisim. But I do believe, we, as a people laugh together better than fight.
And here is a bit of a movie to do it. No violence, no sex (however, a TON of inneundo) make for a movie that truly a whole family can attend.
It works, not only for the reasons above, but because the cast really are having a good time. You have John Travolta, in drag no less, practically screaming "watch this!"; you have terrific newcomer Nikki Blonscky celebrating her role with all the energy of a cheerleader on a pot of coffee. She's happy she got the role in the movie--dammit, we should be to.
And we are. I think of it of a friend who loves computers. The dude lives, breathes and eats PCs. He can talk about them forwards and backwards, perhaps even upside down. And he's so excited when he talks about them--you can help but be caught up--even if you don't know what the heck he's talking about.
Such is the strength of her performance. Such is the strength of the entire cast.
I loved it. It will become a guilty pleasure, that's for sure.
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