Hairspray - DVD Review

MOVIE
VIDEO
AUDIO
EXTRAS
OVERALL

Two Discs (See Pecker review for second disc)
1.85:1 Anamorphic Widescreen
English Dolby Digital 5.1
English
Theatrical Trailer
Audio Commentary
Run Time: 91 Minutes
Foldout Case

MOVIE
Rated PG, for an overtly sexual dance and general (though toned down) Waters perversion. And because the mother is Divine.

I found John Waters in a strange way. My first actual contact with a Waters film (long before I'd ever heard his name) was when I was still in grade school, watching snippets of Hairspray on TV in my great aunt's (a former nun) house. That's a Waters moment. A distant cousin I've long since forgotten pointed out that a man in the film is played by the same person as the mother. At the time, I assumed that the man was played by a woman. I didn't know it then, but I'd gotten my first glimpse of Divine. Much later, when I'd found Waters and saw his body of work, I re-watched Hairspray, this time the entire thing, and found myself amazed by the depth of character and the relationships in it, especially that between Divine and Jerry Stiller who plays his husband in the film.
But I get ahead of myself. Divine. Even if you don't know his work, I'm sure you've seen him at some point, if as nothing else than a Halloween mask. Divine was a strange actor who only was ever known for playing women in John Waters' movies (and Paul Bartel's Lust In The Dust.) He wasn't a transvestite as many like to label him, because he only dressed as a woman for movies. Divine played raving criminals, screaming their way through filth in many of the early films, and if you'd seen those, you can truly appreciate his subtlety in Hairspray playing a loving mother.
Hairspray is about a young (and VERY obese) girl named Tracy Turnblad (Ricky Lake in her first role) living in Baltimore in the '60s and her rise to fame on The Corny Collins Show, a dancing Mickey Mouse club. The film follows her relationship with Link Larkin (Michael St. Gerard) and her attempts to turn The Corny Collins Show into an integrated show. (African Americans were allowed to be on the show the last Tuesday of every month.) Tracy tries out for the show with her friend Penny Pingleton (who gets "Positively perpetually punished!" in one of Waters best uses of alliteration) and gets on much to the dismay of the Hitler Youth looking cast of the show, young and beautiful people wearing their hair high and rock hard with cans and cans of hairspray in every do. As Tracy gets to be more popular, probably more representative of the viewing public than the cloneesque cast, she raises the ire of another cast member, Amber Von Tussle (Colleen Fitzpatrick) and her parents Franklin and Velma (delightful turns by Sonny Bono and Debbie Harry.)
This is more message than Waters has ever had, or probably ever will again, but that's alright because he does it effortlessly. If he ever wanted to leave filth and perversion behind (and I hope he doesn't) then he could smoothly slide into the mainstream, though his name will likely always carry the stigma of Pink Flamingos. Hairspray is friendly and light and raises deep issues all while not taking itself too seriously. But the best part of this film, the core, is Divine as Tracy's mother Edna. For the first time, looking at him, you could believe he was a woman, believe it and not question it as I did. He also plays the racist owner of the local amusement park, Arvin Hodgepile and proves he can play a man just as well. Unfortunately, two weeks after Hairspray was released, as Divine was getting noticed and having fantastic reviews all around for the first time in his career, with a possible recurring character run on Married With Children to start the next day, Divine died. He left an enormous void that's never been filled in Waters films, and left behind legions of fans that adore him. He represented the strange and unusual and, to paraphrase Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice, we ourselves are strange and unusual.

VIDEO QUALITY
John's most colorful picture looks great here, only slightly showing its age. The colors pop and the blacks are rich. Hairspray is presented in its original theatrical ratio of 1.85:1. It's a short film, so it doesn't suffer from compression problems. Occasionally, I noticed some scratches, but once again I think that can be attributed to the fact that eighties films as a whole weren't that well taken care of.

AUDIO QUALITY
As with most musicals or movies filled with songs, the musical numbers are sweeping, filling the speakers both front and rear, but then like most comedies, the 5.1 track settles down and moves back to an enhanced stereo with the dialogue centered. That being said, this film doesn't need an aggressive 5.1 track, it works just fine without it.

EXTRAS
Okay, I gave a three score for two extras (three if you count "animated interactive menus" [and I don't]). Yes I did. But it's only because of the exceptional quality of the audio commentary track. John Waters is one of the most intelligent, engaging and dryly witty commentarians who consistently records them. On this track, he's joined by Ricky Lake and together they reminisce about this, her first film experience, his first family film over twelve years before the recording. John is more than happy to let us in on the behind the scenes stories as more than evidenced in his writings (Shock Value, pick it up, one of the best books on filmmaking ever, but has a depressing new prologue.) This track is a bit slower than some of his others, probably due to the other person present. If you let him go on his own, he just goes.
The other extra is an original theatrical trailer which looks good, but is grainy and scratched. It's a fun little trailer that has a distinct eighties feel to it.

CLOSING THOUGHTS
Hairspray is one of those movies from your childhood that you thought was good then and realized why it was good now. Now that you get all the jokes and references, now that you can appreciate the amusing cameos of Ric Ocasek, Sonny Bono, Debby Harry, Ruth Brown and Pia Zadora, now that you KNOW Divine's a man and are alright with that, centered in yourself, centered in the weirdness. Enough waxing.

Go to The John Waters Collection, Volume 1 (Part II - Pecker)