This bright, feel-good musical left us so happy that we were possibly high on hairspray fumes.
The volume's pumped up on the dancing and charisma as well as on the ratted hair in this tale of "pleasantly plump" Tracy and her black friends in 1962 Baltimore, who wish to dance on TV like the thin white kids do.
The problems are real: the kids are held back in "special education" just because they're black, while the villains are both racists and body fascists. But Tracy blithely dances around the hurdles and comes up with the best teenage insult ever: "You have acne of the soul". Yes, this fantasy is over-the-top (just remember, not all black women jive in rhyming couplets).
The production values are excellent: Harold Moot's light, nimble Dr Seuss-like set lets Janet Hine's enormous number of exceptional costumes shine - the slacks alone are lilac, rose, teal and lime. And the frocks, oh my. One blink and you'll miss the rollerskating angels.