Haarspray gay
Gay in the 80s
Hairspray was a milestone for both John Waters and Divine. For Waters it was his directorial debut in mainstream films; for Holy it was the first clip in which he didn&#;t possess the leading role.
Soon-to-be famous (and also considerably slimmer) Ricki Lake played the main character, rebellious 60s teenager Tracey Turnblad. Celestial played two roles &#; Tracey&#;s long-suffering mother Edna and Arvin Hodgepile, the bigoted owner of the local TV station and the amusment park &#;Tilted Acres&#;. Neither character came anywhere near to any of Divine&#;s more usual outrageous and dysfunctional characters.
Instead the characters and the motion picture charted a course of camp but tasteful fun, bringing Waters his first real commercial accomplishment (the film made US$8m in the USA). Of course it was nothing like the US$m that the dismal re-make raked in.
Which only goes to exhibit the unfortunate influence of celestial body power over talent. Whereas Holy imbued the role of Edna Turnblad with a real feeling of comic credibility, John Travolta in a fat suit remained nothing more than Jo
By Christopher Cappiello
When John Waters makes a quick cameo as a flasher during "Good Morning Baltimore," the joyful opening number of "Hairspray" – the production version of the Broadway musical adaptation of Waters' original film – it's as if the outrageous auteur is letting his fans know that it's OK to love this irresistible new incarnation of his tale of a chubby little girl with big dreams.
"John basically gave us freedom, and that's the best cooperation you can ask for," says Neil Meron, who produced the film with longtime business partner Craig Zadan. "He told the creators of the Broadway musical, 'Do your version,' and that's what he told us. '"
Waters has reason to be happy. Zadan and Meron, the masterminds behind the Oscar-winning adaptation of Chicago, have gathered an all-star cast to bring the Marc Shaiman/Scott Wittman musical to film on July John Travolta leads the way as Edna Turnblad, the plus-size Baltimore housewife whose daughter Tracy (newcomer Nikki Blonsky) dreams of dancing on "The Corny Collins Show" and ends up integrating a Baltimore television station
I grew up on Long Island, which is filled with all kinds of people from diverse backgrounds and identities and not far from the cultural wonders of Brand-new York City. Still, I wasn’t really exposed to the LGBTQIA community because I spent my elementary school years as a learner at St. Mary’s Roman Catholic academy and as an altar server at St. Aloysius Roman Catholic Church.
I didn’t come from a family of steep holy rollers but I was raised to be constant, so my parents felt Catholic university would be excellent for me, and it was ― to some extent. I learned a lot there, but learning about my sexuality was never part of the curriculum. I can’t remember a free sermon ever referencing homosexuality ― grant alone sexuality ― or claiming it was wrong. Sexuality was simply never brought up. But that’s not the reason I wasn’t a fan of the school.
I wasn’t happy there because they didn’t own a choir or singing program, and that was pure torture for me. From a very young age, I needed to chant to be cheerful. Once my parents realized music and performing were truly my passions, they took me out of
First published in on August 6,
When I was in junior high I used to sit at the “black” lunch table in the cafeteria, much to the shock (and occasional ridicule) of my white schoolmates. The seating was not officially segregated, but with rare exceptions African-Americans sat together, and I sat with them.
It wasn’t a grand political statement or a attuned act of solidarity or anything high-minded. On the contrary, it was a reluctant acknowledgment of my outsider status. While members of the white, mostly affluent student majority called me a “fag,” the black students were agreeable to me, and I felt more comfortable around them.
Some years later I started going to the gay beaches on Blaze Island, where I noticed a number of interracial straight couples. Interestingly, the “straight” part stuck out more than the “interracial” part—which, I later learned, was their main reason for choosing the male lover beach. “We get a lot of flak at the straight beaches,” they told me. “But gays are cool about it.” Fellow outsiders, once again.
I thought about both of these events recently as I watch