Bright, campy and wonderfully light, Hairspray reminds us that fun comes in all shapes and sizes. It's also one of the few 'event' movies this summer that doesn't outstay its welcome. That's worth singing about, no matter what your name is.
It's amiable, it's bouncy, it's got a sweet unknown in the lead flanked by a cast of bankable stars and, providing as it does an amiable and bouncy and sweet escape from a summer's worth of clunky blockbusters.
Marc Shaiman's peppy music conspires with Shankman's energized, retro-musical choreography to make for a giant cinematic grin -- a dimpled dental testament of faith in the powers of nice over nasty, tolerance over bigotry and aerosol over the ozone.
Against all expectations, Hairspray turns out to be an explosion of industrial-strength good cheer, delivered by very smart show-biz pros with wit, passion, and a soupçon of dementia. Resistance is futile.
The movie pulsates with so much energy and excitement that it sometimes seems it will come bouncing off the screen. But then someone applies another layer of lacquer to their 'do, and the whole boisterous bouffant of a show somehow sticks together.
It's one of the best Broadway-tuner adaptations in recent years -- yes, arguably even better than those Oscar-winning ones. Unpretentious, feel-good pic is low on histrionic diva wailing and MTV-style editing, high on retro movie-musical craftsmanship.
John Travolta takes on John Waters in Hairspray, and the result is anything but a drag in this appealingly goofy, all-singing, all-dancing screen adaptation of the Broadway musical based on the 1988 film.