The evolution (or intelligent design) of "Hairspray" has its genesis with John Waters' 1988 camp-film satire about a heavyweight championship for the coveted title of Miss Teenage Hairspray 1962. Its exodus -- from talking about the mysteries of Baltimore to singing about them on Broadway -- was led by Marc Shaiman, Moses of the 2002 hit musical, now culminating in the screen revelations of same.

		Hairspray Starring: Nikki Blonsky, John Travolta, Zac Efron, Michelle Pfeiffer, Queen Latifah. Director: Adam Shankman. Rating: PG for language and some suggestive content. Family Film Guide Web site: "Hairspray" Related article Edna Turnblad's boys' club

The opening "Good Morning, Baltimore!" number introduces us to tubby Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky), who lives to dance, and to director-choreographer Adam Shankman's effective efforts to make her dream and this adaptation come true.

It's a nice way to start a film, a day, a Cinderella story, and a flap at school over Tracy's "inappropriate hair height."

Inappropriate girth, not height, is her mother's issue: Cut to plus-sized laundress Edna (John Travolta) at home, long-and-large-suffering over her ironing board, snapping back to a customer's complaint about her prices: "Some of your personal stains require pounding with a rock." How big is Edna? Her passport required an aerial photograph.

And then there's her hubby, Wilbur (Christopher Walken), proprietor of the Hardy-Har-Har gag shop. They're a match made, if not quite in heaven, at least in limbo before its recent Vatican decertification -- the weirdest but nicest dysfunctional parents an oversized girl could ever have.

Tracy's happy feet lead to her chronic lateness and after-school detention with fellow underdogs -- African-Americans all. She's not likely to make it onto "The Corny Collins Show" (Baltimore's version of "American Bandstand") because of her weight, nor are they because of their race. But that affinity (and sense of rhythm) are the consolation.

Tracy, of course, will end up competing for "Miss Hairspray" and for the feet and affections of the show's resident dreamboat, Link (Zac Efron), against Barbie doll Amber (Brittany Snow) and Amber's scheming mom, Velma, the TV station manager (Michelle Pfeiffer). And she won't forget her black pals, being -- or becoming -- a part of the social as well as musical vanguard.

Director Shankman ("The Wedding Planner," "Bringing Down the House"), creator of the "Comedians" song-and-dance number with Will Ferrell, Jack Black and John C. Reilly -- the one thing that woke up audiences of this year's Academy Awards show -- keeps cast and audiences alike awake throughout "Hairspray."

Blonsky was a high-school senior working at an ice-cream store when chosen from 1,000 candidates for the Tracy role originated by Ricki Lake (!) in Waters' film and Marissa Winokur on Broadway. She's a charming newcomer -- excellent in delivering such hits as "I Can Hear the Bells" -- if not as fabulous a discovery as "American Idol" contestant Jennifer Hudson, this year's Oscar winner for "Dreamgirls."

"Hairspray's" discovery award goes to the terrific Elijah Kelley, whose singing and dancing in "Run & Tell That" almost steals the film. Pfeiffer is convincing, as always, but weak in the vocal department.

Of more concern is -- The Great Travolta Risk! The mega-star of "Grease" (highest-grossing musical of all time), "Saturday Night Fever," "Urban Cowboy" and "Pulp Fiction" has since made lotsa bad movies and turned down three big musicals ("Chorus Line," "Phantom" and "Chicago"). Edna had all the makings for a disaster.

Fans of the musical, after all, wanted Harvey Fierstein to reprise himself, or maybe Robin Williams or Steve Martin. But characters like "Tootsie" and "Mrs. Doubtfire" were males dressing as females for plot purposes.

"Playing a woman attracted me," Travolta has said. "Playing a drag queen did not." Instead of the hideously, hilariously grotesque caricature of Divine (aka Glen Milstead), Travolta saw Edna as she (preferably) sees herself: "Sophia Loren with a couple hundred extra pounds," downplaying the role with real motherliness, a kind of shamed reticence and vulnerability. He even gets the funky Baltimore accent more or less right. And oh, can he dance, even in a fat suit! Not enough, for my liking. But he's doing much more than just stayin' alive on his feet.

"Hairspray's" delicious characters, super score and fast pace make it this generation's rough equivalent of "Bye Bye Birdie," "Hair," "Grease" or maybe even "Tommy" -- but with a significant racial twist. "Once a month we have our Negro Day," says the TV dance show producer. "We have to steer them in the white direction."

"I wish every day was Negro Day!" says Tracy.

"In our house, it is," says her black friend, Seaweed.

Queen Latifah as Negro Day's host, Motormouth Maybelle, does a fine job with her protest torch song, "I Know Where I've Been," at a demonstration-turned-disaster. Overall, the film's interracial dancing and kissing are no big deal now. But back then ...

"Hairspray," since its musical inception, has been much praised artistically and dismissed politically as just a vanilla B'way rendering of the civil rights struggle. But the Supremes have changed that. Not the Motown kind of Supremes -- the judicial kind. Our High Court's recent ruling, striking down school desegregation, gives silly old "Hairspray" a sudden new relevance, especially for the young.

"Hairspray," for all its naivete, turns out to be the most politically correct surprise summer hit of many a year -- a fast, fun, full-figured musical in more ways than one. Ignore any bad buzz you might have heard, as well as absurd calls by a few gay groups to boycott it in protest against the alleged homophobia of Travolta's Church of Scientology.

Kids and musical-lovers should go willingly -- Clarence Thomas should be dragged forcibly -- to this gentle, entertaining reminder of "the way we were."

Take a look at Ednas of the past, page E-8