Terrific blast of... energy

HAIRSPRAY, Opera House, Manchester

JOHN Waters’ late 80s mix of camp and controversy, softened for musical film and theatre, should be a flabby, sentimental politically-correct mess of a show, least likely to offend.

But no: the movie-musical “Hairspray” is one of the most infectiously feelgood movies of recent years and this stage show is, if anything, even more so, adding an immediacy the film can’t match.

It’s a marvellously improbable tale — fat underachieving teen Tracy Turnblad is desperate to join a cheesy local TV dance show and achieve undreamed-of fame, while grabbing her dream hunk, winning racial integration and defeating a white bigot into the bargain. Easy.

“Hairspray” majors in brilliant early 60s pop pastiche, an almost pantomime-like attitude to sets and costumes, wonderfully over the top performances and the sort of energy “Grease” wished it had.

It’s simply a terrific, high-energy blast from start to finish. To see the likes of star Michael Ball having a, well, a ball, in a fat suit with 54EEE falsies, Nigel Planer as “her” husband, the wonderful Laurie Scarth as fireball Tracy and Liam Doyle as boyfriend Link, plus an assortment of great singers (Sandra Marvin as Maybelle, DJ for the TV show’s “Negro Day” - this is Baltimore in 1962, remember) and dancers (Wayne Robinson as her son Seaweed) gives the evening even more fun and feelgood factor.

The stage show also gives minor characters the chance to shine — notably Emma Dukes as Tracy’s friend Penny. In the movie penny isn’t too prominent; here she adds a lot to the comedy.

Though the show has terrific dance numbers and expert pacing — the second half is one highlight after another, leading to the glorious “You Can’t Stop the Beat” finale — it also enjoys a formidable script, with many hilarious observations and jokes fleshed into real believable dialogue by these performers.

The evening is also drilled to within an inch of its effervescent life by director Jack O’Brien: in the big duet for Planer and Ball, “You’re Timeless to Me”, there is a sequence of ad-libs that Ball must have done dozens and dozens of times, but which sound like they are being minted in front of us.

This is classy, fun-packed, heart-warming stuff, in a package that celebrates the downmarket and cheesy; which both loves its subject and mercilessly sends it up. if you can find one of the very scarce tickets, don’t hesitate to tease up your big hair and go.