‘Hairspray’ balances frivolity, social issues

One of the most difficult aspects of the high school theater staple “Hairspray” is to blend the momentous weight of early ’60s racial tensions with an otherwise lighthearted, fluffy coming-of-age story. In the show, plump and plucky high schooler Tracy Turnblad teaches 1962 Baltimore about integration after landing a spot on a local TV dance show.

Nation Ford High School struck a teetering balance between the two facets in a staging that sparkled with enthusiasm, though its poignance occasionally stuttered.

The ever-present racial undertones of the show began with the opening “Good Morning Baltimore.” Undercutting the exuberant ensemble number was a disconcerting awareness that the dancers were segregated, as they would have been back then in Baltimore. This understated image is extremely effective and sets an example that is reached only a few times in the rest of the production.

Lauren Renner has the vitality and conviction Tracy needs and a voice that shines in the upper register, though it has a tendency to diminish almost to indiscernibility when she doesn’t belt. She plays opposite Drew Reynolds as pretty boy Link Larkin. Reynolds has more chemistry with the audience than with Tracy, which elevates “It Takes Two” in the first act but robs “Without Love” of some of its sincerity.

Shelbi Ream and Jamaas Britton stood out as Penny Pingleton and Seaweed Stubbs, an endearing and times-defying biracial couple who carry the show’s message without making it feel weighty or forced.

Director Cheri Addison took pains to ensure every cast member had a moment to shine. Even with a cast of 54, I recognized nearly every performer at curtain call yet never felt overwhelmed during production numbers.

This effect was achieved by the sheer size of the stage, a fairly minimal set, and Addison’s choice to let the ensemble spill into the house, directly in front of the audience and down the aisles.

Addison and choreographer Ben Henley also take advantage of the competitive dance background of a few ensemble members with a goosebump-rendering interpretive quartet in “I Know Where I’ve Been.” The skilled handling of the ensemble is demonstrated again in the singing: Blend and balance were seamless, with only a few trouble spots in diction.

Both set and costumes indulged shamelessly in early ’60s chintzy fun, winning over the audience with gaudy boa-hemmed shifts and frothy confections of petticoats. This reinforced the overall lighthearted tone of the show.

Tech was nearly flawless, despite the demands of the many wireless body mics, fairly elaborate scene changes and use of recorded tracks instead of a live band.

The show was not without its setbacks: There was a disappointing but understandable loss of momentum in the second act, and a few places where “Hairspray’s” caricatures and opportunities weren’t pushed to their potential.

That said, the infectious enthusiasm of the cast created a show that was boisterous without being obnoxious, meaningful without being patronizing, and altogether a family-friendly experience.

This story was originally published May 8, 2015 at 11:35 AM with the headline "‘Hairspray’ balances frivolity, social issues."