“Good morning, Baltimore!” belts Tracy Turnblad in Hairspray’s opening number, her voice sunny and her spirit more so. Even the rats, the flasher and the bum brighten her day as she dances to high school. It’s a veritable Fantasy Land on the Chesapeake, set in candy-colored, bouncy-skirted, slick-haired 1962, when teenagers used words like “groovy” before they became clichés.
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