Hairspray holds its bounce

Every teenager who’s been told to “watch that tone, young man (young lady)”, knows that it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. Take the story of a chubby teenage girl in 1962 who wins a dance contest on the Corny Collins Show, finds love with the coolest guy in town, and leads a movement to de-segregate Baltimore. It’s all in how you tell it.

The idea was already retro when John Waters’ film came out in 1988, so something had to click with audiences to assure its success on stage. Six and a half years on Broadway and eight Tony Awards later, “Hairspray”, the cuter-than-anything musical with the big hair, was indeed an unqualified success.

Signature’s production, under the direction of Eric Schaeffer, knows how to “run and tell that”. It’s early 60s kitsch done with a kick. Too campy? Ramp it up! A swashbuckling and unembarrassed self-knowledge lies at the heart of this show’s infinite appeal.

The televised Corny Collins Show, an imaginary cousin of the Dick Clark show, is Baltimore’s “in” place to be. Everyone’s welcome to join this social petri dish run by Velma Von Tussle (Sherri Edelen) as long as you’re slender, pretty, and white. Corny Collins himself (Stephen Smith) is Velma’s happy-face front man; the show, just a vehicle for the promotion of her slender, pretty — and white — daughter, Amber (Erin Driscoll). And once a month, because they don’t want to be called “prejudiced” or anything, the Corny Collins Show hosts “Negro Day.”

In the center of the teenage turmoil is Tracy Turnblad (Carolyn Cole), all saucer-eyed hope and innocence. Will resident dreamboat, Link Larkin, (Thomas Craigin) deign to look at her? Will she ever get a chance to dance? And find love? And be a star? And integrate Baltimore? Yes, yes, yes, yes ... well, maybe. Ms. Cole is the quintessential Tracy, ably negotiating the fine line between adolescent naiveté and the sophisticated simplicity of her goal “to all dance together.” 

But the discrimination knife cuts more than just race. The Corny Collins Show regulars, led by Amber, Queen of the In Crowd, makes it clear that being white isn’t enough — beautiful, slender, and cool are also required. That we can believe Tracy’s victory over these roadblocks is a testament to Ms. Cole’s performance.

Karma and Brianne Camp’s high-octane choreography shows off the hoofing skills and high-wattage personality of this splendid cast. “Mama, I’m a Big Girl, Now” that anthem to the eternal mother/daughter conflict and “I Can Hear the Bells” — the soft focus, comic fantasy inside Tracy’s head — are pure delight.

Radiating star power in her role as Motormouth Maybelle is Nova Payton, proprietor of the “other” teenage hangout and mother of Seaweed Stubbs (James Rodriguez). She brings down the house with “I Know Where I’ve Been.” He rises to the challenge that Tracy began by falling in love with the awkwardly adorable Penny (Lauren Williams) and leading his friends in a spirited performance of “Run and Tell That.”

Signature managed to score Robert Aubrey Davis in the traditional man-as-woman role of Edna Turnblad. Washington fans of Around Town on WETA must be particularly pleased to see the award-winning host in an XXL dress behind an ironing board, but while Mr. Davis does all he can do with this role, I would prefer to see more ambiguity. There is never any question — ever — that this is a very large man in an even larger dress.

But paired with the diminutive Wilbur (Harry Winter), purveyor of novelties, a certain odd chemistry ignites as they dance to the charmingly vaudevillian “You’re Timeless To Me.”

Daniel Conway’s scenic design cleanly describes all we need to know about 1962 Baltimore with its dark blue brick walls and divisions on each side of the tracks. Costumes by Kathleen Geldard also evoke without ridiculing (and it wouldn’t be hard to do!) the stylized fashion ethos of the time.

Voices are strong, as should be expected at Signature, but an occasional nasal tone crept into Tracy’s opening “Good Morning, Baltimore” and Penny’s mic could do with a turn down to spare innocent ear drums. Small quibbles.

Teased up bubbles and flip hair-dos deflated long ago and integration is now an important chapter in the history books; but that can’t stop the beat of this zesty, innocent, and wholly charming show.

Maggie Lawrence is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association. She is a retired drama and English teacher.

Want to go?

What: “Hairspray”

Where: Signature Theatre, Arlington

Call: (703) 820-9771 or visit www.signature-theatre.org

Held over until Feb. 5