Hairspray Takes the Small St. Louis Stage in a Big Way Fox Theatre

Ricki Lake, Sunny Bono and Divine, Hollywoodization and a tremendous splash on Broadway are tough acts to follow for the touring talent of the off-Broadway production of Hairspray that graced the stage of the fabulous Fox Theatre. With most of the world having seen the movie or stage adaptation in some form, making characters original and yet familiar enough not to lose their sincerity is a rough going task for any performer on the cast of such a major traveling hit.

Brooklyn Pulver’s (Tracy Turnblad) borderline irritating, projectile squeaky voice is par for the course for the typical comedic stage heroine. She’s not Ricky Lake and not quite Marissa Jaret Winokur, the original Broadway Tracy. Still, her spunk and comedic timing deliver to carry forward a believable character and the show. Her helium-induced strains and cuteness keep us in smiles and stitches with the cleverly written script and score.

As for Jerry O’Boyle (Edna Turnblad), he’s no Divine, but he brings a unique complex mixture of gruff and softness to Edna, giving her more stretch and suppleness than his triple-Q support hose. The chemistry between O’Boyle and goofy Charles R. Sarkioglu, III (Wilbur Turnblad) is oddly sweet and tangible. An out-of-character crack up during the hilarious duet, “Timeless to Me,” sent waves of laughter through the audience opening night, as both O’Boyle and Sarkioglu doubled over in quakes of silent laughter while ad libbing sexual innuendos.

This cast of Hairspray delivers the laughs. A minor, but notable player, Kate Feerick, a lithe and rubbery comedienne with a fantastic set of pipes, morphs from the geeky gym teacher to the stern prison guard, to Penny Pingleton’s prudish mother, Prudy. The reoccurring line, “God, I’m lonely!” gives her multiple identity away.

With constant song and lively dance numbers, the show moves rapidly from one musical medley to the next. The cast kicks up their heels, reviving the spirit of the ‘60s and the various musical styles that reigned supreme. Speaking of Supreme, the production’s own version of its Motown girls, The Dynamites, comprised of actresses Shelese Franklin, Talitha Farrow and Kimberly Marable, in sparkling red dresses, bring the house down during “Welcome to the 60s” with their dynamite voices.

Most dynamite, however, has to be Marsena Eunice Bowers (Motormouth Mabelle). An old-fashioned belter, Bowers gifted voice outshines the entire cast, as she owns songs like “Big, Blonde & Beautiful and I Know Where I’ve Been.” Bowers big, blonde and beautiful presence casts a goose-pimpling spell over the audience and could inspire a stone cold statue to get down and boogie.

The big girls get most of the good lines and most of the good songs in Hairspray, and why shouldn’t they? The show’s message is a positive one; emphasizing the modern message that outer appearance is trivial, that it’s the passion inside that counts. The fat girl gets the guy and saves the day, and the blacks and whites accept one another for who they are, ending segregation. No matter the size, shape, gender or race of a person, everyone can come away from the performance with that trite, yet pleasant “warm fuzzy” feeling.

In the end, the enthusiasm of the players and the swinging, upbeat nature of the songs get a body moving. By Act Two, Scene Five, a person cannot help but feel it too, bopping around contagiously to the lively “You Can’t Stop the Beat” as the cast hop, jump and flail to the music. It may not be Broadway, but it’s a great way to spend an evening on the positive side of the street.

by Solange Deschatres