Hairspray

Subversive without being mean-spirited, ironic without being detached, and straightforwardly uplifiting without being sappy, Hairspray-- a big-budget, big-screen musical I resisted all summer but finally succumbed to today on DVD-- is a delightful film, throwing the Civil Rights movement and the culture of the late 1950s into a giant blender and viewing it anew through the bright, bold colors of a star-studded celebration of song and dance. The music is catchy, the performances suitably enthusiastic, the costumes and sets vibrant with razzle dazzle, but what's really great about it is its clever, frequently rather subtle jabs at our own notions of recent cultural history, which manage to give the movie a slightly irreverent feel without detracting from its optimistic spirit and idealistic, follow-your-dreams message.

I love how the film exhorts us to look beyond the surface and try to see beyond appearances, all the while cherishing and celebrating all the things that make the surface and appearances flashy and appealing in the first place.

It's better than Dreamgirls by a longshot-- in fact, it's the best movie musical I've seen since Moulin Rouge.

And incidentally, I haven't read many reviews or commentaries on the film, but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if many critics and commentators were making much of the film's themes of tolerance and inclusion-- coupled with the appearance of John Travolta in drag-- as a commentary on current debates related to homosexuality. And to this end, I'll simply say that I'm glad the film didn't make it any more heavy-handed or obvious than that.