‘Hairspray’ holds up on local stage

Tom Titus

What “Grease” was to the musical memories of the 1950s, “Hairspray”

is to the early 1960s, only with the energy and the volume amped up

and packing a social conscience to add considerable depth to all the

abundant hilarity.

Make that Energy, with a capital E, which is the prime selling

point of this musical version of the John Waters movie about a chubby

teenage girl in 1962 and her quest to hit center stage on a televised

teen dance show that’s Baltimore’s answer to “American Bandstand.”

Now in residence at the Orange County Performing Arts Center

through Oct. 24, the 2003 winner of eight Tony awards is a

hard-rocking, high-stepping takeoff of, and tribute to, the young

people of this bygone era when soul replaced swing as teenagers’

music of choice. It’s fast, furious and frantically funny.

“Hairspray” initially centers on a chubby coed, Tracy Turnblad,

who’s bound and determined to crack the corpulence barrier and

compete for the title of “Miss Hairspray” on the live teen dance

show. But life becomes more complicated when she and her new black

friends campaign to integrate the program, which heretofore

broadcasts “in color” only on the once-a-month “Negro Day.”

As Tracy, the big girl with big hair and a bigger heart, Keala

Settle tears up the stage with grit and determination -- and a voice

that’s bigger than all three other elements -- as she goes after not

only the Miss Hairspray title but the hunky lead singer in the

company (Austin Miller) while spearheading the quest for integration,

a touchy subject below the Mason-Dixon line in 1962.

As in the movie, Tracy’s mother is played by a guy in drag, in

this case Blake Hammond, who’ll be replaced by John Pinette for the

balance of the run. Hammond has the corpulence and the attitude to

completely sell this character, and he’s joined for one of the best

numbers of the show (“Timeless to Me”) by the terrific Stephen DeRosa

as Tracy’s father and the lively proprietor of the Har-De-Har Hut gag

gift shop.

Every show needs a villain, and “Hairspray” obliges with a pair of

villainesses -- Susan Cella and Worth Williams as blond

mother-daughter guardians of old, lily-white Baltimore, who stir

things up with relish. Cella is particularly captivating in her

rendition of “The Legend of Miss Baltimore Crabs,” a title she wears

with pride and punctuates with crab-like finger gestures that become

a character trademark.

Special accolades must be accorded Joanna Glushak, who takes on

three juicy supporting roles and aces all three. Glushak is riotous

as a butch gym teacher and a stern jail matron, but she really hits

her stride as the mother of Tracy’s best friend (Chandra Lee

Schwartz), who’s horrified at her daughter’s romance with a black boy

(the splendid singer-dancer Alan Mingo Jr.).

Another show-stopper is Charlotte Crossley as Mingo’s mother, a

record shop owner and deejay known as Motormouth Maybelle. Her vocal

stylings rock the auditorium. Adopting the Dick Clark guise as the TV

show host, Troy Britton Johnson offers a smooth and polished

interpretation. The “Hairspray” ensemble packs precision and high

energy into its numbers under the direction of Jack O’Brien and

choreographer Jerry Mitchell. Musical director Jim Vukovich sets a

torrid pace and even beckons the audience into the proceedings at

intermission.

The show culminates in an infectious, all-stops-out production

number, “You Can’t Stop the Beat,” which raises the question why

anyone would want to.

Just remember the name of the show, and sit far enough back if

you’re sensitive to “hairspray,” the real stuff, which is liberally

employed on several occasions.

* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Daily Pilot. His reviews

appear Fridays.