Hairspray

Some years ago, a sick fuck of a director named John Waters made a number of shockingly disgusting films, nearly all of which I enjoyed immensely. This demented pervert propelled such acting gems from sub-culture into the popular mind like Ricki Lake (yes, people) and the unforegettable Divine. Yup: there’s a special place in Skye Frontier’s black heart for his trash.

Divine’s great claim to notoriety was for eating a piece of dog shit in Waters’ 1972 film Pink Flamingos. Apart from that, he/she/it had a Top 20 (in the UK) hit, in the form of a cover version of You Think You’re a Man, in addition to other songs suitable only for drag shows. I had the priviledge of seeing Divine lip-sync her own hits at Komrad’s in Toronto in 1987. I was 16 (OK, so now you know). One can only speculate whether this seminal event turned me into the messed up puppy that I subsequently became. Incidentally, Divine dropped dead of a massive heart attack in 1988.

In the 90s, Waters gained commercial success with slicker movies such as Cry Baby and Serial Mom, attracting no less names than Johnny Depp and Kathleen Turner, respectively. A Dirty Shame in 2004 was slick but thematically much closer to his earlier work, and starred many of his original cast members plus Tracy Ullman. However, perhaps his most memorable flick was the 1988 Hairspray, a musical, starring Divine, Ricki Lake and Debbie Harry. So imagine my mortified surprise when I found out that a commercial remake of this classic was about to be released.

To be perfectly honest, I’ll have to see the original once again, because I must have been pretty stoned when I saw it the first time around (always a good way to watch John Waters). The details remain sketchy, and while I’m sure that the plot was essentially the same, I’m also certain it contained far more outrage. I do recall that the soundtrack was quite catchy, though. In any case, I saw the remake on opening day in Bangkok’s MBK Mall’s Cinema City (occupying the 7th and 8th floors of this Great Temple of Consumerism).

Michelle Pfeiffer, a slimmed down Queen Latifa, Christopher Walken, newcomer Nikki Blonsky, cute Zac Efron and total stud muffin Elijah Kelley all gave memorable performances in this camp and witty musical. Who says American audiences reject the Bollywood format? First Moulin Rouge, now this! But the icing on the cake was John Travolta made up to look like a sow with a thyroid problem. I don’t know how they did it, but 30 years after Grease and Saturday Night Fever, he still has all the moves, even looking like he weighs 250 kilos. The 60s integration theme was a bit lame, as I like my politics a rather edgier, even in a musical. To be fair, it was probably quite a bit more poignant in Waters’ original version. But the costumes, hairdos, choreography and soundtrack were all stupendous, so it can be forgiven.

Mom: go out RIGHT NOW and buy me the soundtrack on CD! You can continue reading Skye Frontier’s archives later. Come on, up you get; they’ll still be online when you get back from the Promenade.

As for the rest of you, don’t walk, don’t run, sprout wings and FLY out to your nearest cinema hall to see Hairspray. You will smile throughout every minute, and it will stick with you for hours afterward. A great show!