Adam Shankman’s Hairspray is efficiently staged and spiritually faithful to both the Broadway musical upon which it’s based, as well as John Waters’ 1988 film. Yet though colorful, cheery and energetic, there’s something missing from this song-and-dance routine, and it’s the wacky, transgressive, indie-posing-as-mainstream-movie vibe of Waters’ original. Presumably like the stage show, this star-studded Hairspray hews closely to Waters’ narrative, which involves the efforts of chubby 1962 teen Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky) to make a name for herself on local TV’s afternoon dance program The Corny Collins Show, a goal that leads to conflict between underdog outsiders (fatties and blacks, mostly) and the entrenched white establishment. Rather than trying to capture the around-the-edges skuzziness and makeshift charm of its big-screen predecessor, Shankman’s film goes for big, jazzy glossiness. It’s a tack that’s understandable – who wants to try and one-up Waters at his own game? – but one that nonetheless saps the material of its authentic Baltimore-fringe verve. The result is a mildly charming trifle, notable for offering up barely hummable (and too many) musical numbers, an opportunity to ponder tweeners’ inexplicable infatuation with Zach “High School Musical” Effron, and a chance to groan at fat suit-encased John Travolta futilely attempting to inhabit Divine’s high heels – as well as sing in a female voice – as Edna Turnblad.