Hairspray is the 2003 Tony Award winner for Best Musical! Based on filmmaker John Waters' affectionately subversive homage to his Baltimore youth, Hairspray takes place in 1962. Chubby Tracy Turnblad (Marissa Jaret Winokur, 2003 Tony winner for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical) is transformed into a teen celebrity on a local TV dance program. With her irresistible stage mother (Harvey Fierstein, 2003 Tony winner for Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical) at her side, she attempts to win the heart of the local heartthrob and integrate "The Corny Collins Show" at the same time.
I love reading scripts, so of course I wanted to read this one. I'd recommend it for all those who've seen the movie but haven't been able to see the original play -both of which I also strongly recommend.
About to work on a production of this so i had to read the script. Not my fave, but not the worst musical ever. The potential for fun costumes exists. I dunno, I can kind of take it or leave it.
Hairspray is happy and silly and infectiously giddy; it's also fueled by a message that is heartfelt and honorable. It's loads of fun, it makes you feel good, it's even a little bit deliciously subversive: it ends, after all, with an overweight teenager, a black diva, and a drag queen singing their hearts out to tumultuous applause.
The show revolves around Tracy Turnblad, a chubby Baltimore teenager whose impossible dream is to dance on the Corny Collins Show on TV. It's 1962; Corny is Maryland's answer to Dick Clark. Among the obstacles to Tracy's goal, apart from the very important one of how she looks, are: her mother, Edna, a gigantic homebound hausfrau who takes in laundry and urges her daughter to keep her dreams small; Velma Von Tussle, former beauty queen (Miss Baltimore Crabs) and waspish producer of Corny's show; and Amber, Velma's little girl, a thoroughly obnoxious 16-year-old who is the current star of Corny's show and is dead-set on becoming Miss Hairspray and also keeping her hunky Elvis-wannabe boyfriend Link Larkin on a tight leash. Oh, did I mention that the beauty title and Link are also on Tracy's wish list?
The beautiful part is that Tracy manages to get everything she wants, and manages to integrate pre-Civil-Rights-Era Baltimore in the bargain. A sticking point for Velma, who is, not surprisingly, blindingly bigoted, is Corny's desire to play "Negro" music on his show. Tracy trumps everybody by bringing Link to an impromptu gathering at local black celebrity Motormouth Maybelle's record shop, and later bringing Maybelle's son Seaweed and his friends to dance on the air.
The plot dabbles freely in anachronism, corniness, and sheer fantasy. When Tracy meets Link for the first time she immediately lapses into a grade-B movie musical number called "I Can Hear the Bells," featuring a chorus of high school kids ringing improbably golden chimes. And when Tracy convinces her shy mother Edna to leave the house for the first time in years (to help her negotiate a contract as spokesmodel for a local plus size department store), a poster featuring the Supremes-like musical trio The Dynamites bursts to life and guides Edna out of her fears in a joyous song and dance called "Welcome to the '60s."