Media Theatre 'Hairspray' is in fine voice

John Waters brought a lot of his ax collection to

Hairspray

's movie grindstone, and Mark O'Donnell and Thomas Meehan's book of the musical makes no attempt to minimize the story's crusades for civil rights, acceptance of differences, and the perennially controversial notion that the big girl with big hair can win the hunkiest boy in town with her big heart.

In the Baltimore of 1962, proudly plump Tracy Turnblad (Victoria Mayo) wants to win a spot as a dancer on the Corny Collins TV show, achieve racial integration on television, earn her mother's respect, and fall in love with Elvis knockoff Link Larkin (Nathan Meyer, whose honeyed voice earns the comparison). Along the way, she encounters racism, sexism, and a slew of insults about her appearance from the white establishment.

Three things keep Media Theatre's sparklingly sung, superbly danced rendition from disappearing into this aerosol-fueled haze of '60s social justice issues.

One is a negative: In dialogue, the majority of the cast doesn't capture the camp of the characters. Most jokes sail by unnoticed (in fairness, few will get period humor about Khrushchev's shoe and Debbie Reynolds), and in acting, only Jennifer Bissell avoids this fate as Tracy's skinny sidekick Penny. Appearing as a tiny scarecrow in a towering wig, she garners laughs by ambling through clunky gestures and tweaking the tonal shifts of her voice to match.

But two positives offset what cast members may miss in the text - first, their bright, proud voices bubbling through the poppy tunes (music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Shaiman and Scott Wittman), and second, Dann Dunn's direction, which humanizes these cartoonish characters by shifting the emotional center of the story into a touching tale of mothers and daughters, battling both across the generations and in the struggle to help the next one find its way.

Dunn's dazzling choreography integrates simple steps into joyous ensemble numbers bursting with an exuberance that borders on ecstasy, transforming picket lines into dance parades and infusing the entire production with a buoyant sense of life.

Sure, the '60s-era issues still drive the story, but Mayo steals the show. She radiates optimism and cheer, as if Troy Martin-O'Shia's lighting coated her in an ebullient glow, and her blue-shaded eyes, beaming smile and full-to-bursting heart easily outshine the ax-blades of social commentary. For 21/2 hours, I found it impossible not to watch her sing.

Through Nov. 4 at the Media Theatre, 104 E. State St., Media. Tickets: $27-$49. Information: 610-891-0100 or mediatheatre.orgEndText