Performance: 'Hairspray' is a do

Let's not make this more complicated than it needs to be: "Hairspray" is the best thing I have seen at Chanhassen Dinner Theatres in years.

It's more complicated than that, of course. "My Fair Lady" had exquisite elegance; "Camelot" breathed with nobility; "Beauty and the Beast" was a surreal triumph, and "West Side Story" was just a great musical done very well.

None of these events, however, drove us into the night feeling as jazzed as did "Hairspray." If the performers filling the Chanhassen stage were not having the best time of their lives Friday night, then I salute them as world-class fakers. Joy radiated with a palpable ferocity throughout Tamara Kangas Erickson's intricate choreography, and electricity filled every soaring vocal chorus or solo. The production's heart beats with youth, energy, diversity and artistry -- one of those rare moments in the theater that we can call an occasion.

John Waters' original film, which inspired the Broadway musical, demands a wry sense of sarcasm, and Michael Brindisi's production lands squarely in that sensibility. "Hairspray" is really a simple, kitschy little musical: In 1962 Baltimore, chubby teenager Tracy Turnblad (Therese Walth) dreams of winning an appearance on a local TV dance show. Lo and behold, she makes it! Not only that, Walth's spunky and winsome heroine engineers the show's racial integration, making a triumphant "outsider" statement in the bargain.

Carbonated confection, yes? Yes, but its aftertaste of courage and decency makes "Hairspray" a worthy celebration of civil rights. That likely explains why the show won eight Tony Awards, including best musical.

This is not to slight the Tony-winning score by composer Marc Shaiman and co-lyricist Scott Wittman. In the parlance of 1960s radio deejays, the hits just keep on coming.

Ben Bakken as an aspiring Elvis twists and shouts his way through "It Takes Two." Aimee K. Bryant stops the show with "I Know Where I've Been," a gospel anthem rippling with strength and perseverance. "Welcome to the '60s" shows off Kelli Foster Warder, Brianna Graham and Emily Madigan as faux Supremes. Kasono Mwanza and Ivory Doublette get their moment in "Run and Tell That." Throughout, music director Andrew Cooke drives his small orchestra with propulsive urgency.

Brindisi gives his actors free rein, yet he understands that irony withers with caricature. Walth has a comfort and commitment as quirky Tracy; Michael Gruber gleams with smarmy charm as TV host Corny Collins. David Anthony Brinkley, as the impossibly large Edna Turnblad, and Jay Albright as Edna's husband, Wilbur, are spot-on deadpan geniuses.

And have we mentioned Rich Hamson's costumes? Perhaps not, because over and again it's assumed Hamson will be perfect, down to the last stitch. This is no exception, with his eye for color and invention as sharp as ever.

If you see this "Hairspray" and do not walk away with a grin and a buzz, we might merely have different tastes. But please do check the mirror when you get home. You might be dead.