Review: American Stage in the Park's Production of HAIR

HAIR, the latest American Stage in the Park venture, isn’t quite Woodstock but there was certainly a Woodstockian vibe to the opening night of the production at Demens Landing.  Older people, donning Grateful Dead shirts and beads, wearing headbands over their wigs, smiled as they waited for the performance to begin.  Some drank “Flaxen Waxen Ale.”  Others had flowers in their hair, flowers everywhere.  A man sitting next to me proudly showed off his tie-dye shirt.  “$14.95 on Amazon,” he told me.  Suddenly the 1960s (tie-dye) merged with our current world (Amazon). 

Before the show, the cast of HAIR did their usual “in the Park” soundcheck in front of us, singing such Sixties classics as “Purple Haze,” “Something” or “Piece of My Heart.”    They mingled with audience members, passing out flowers.  Before the show, a Bank of America spokesperson nodded at the irony of a show like HAIR being funded by a corporation.  “Down with corporations!” he announced to the crowd jokingly.  “But someone’s gotta pay for these things.”

The pre-show announcement added: “Stick it to the Man by turning off those cell phones!”

The cast then nonchalantly journeyed from the audience to the stage…when suddenly the show began and we were once again plunged into the Age of Aquarius. 

I always took HAIR as a celebration of hippie culture, a re-creation of the free-flowing bohemianism that zeroed in on the zeitgeist of the late 1960s.  I always felt that it was just a plotless, fun-loving, ballin’, rock-and-rollin’ and edgy spotlight on hippiedom. Like the musical Cats but with hippies rather than felines. 

But seeing this American Stage in the Park version (fifteen years after their first foray into HAIR), I feel much differently.  Sure, Act 1 gives off that hippie vibe, that drop-out, Be-In fun-loving sensibility.  But Act 2 is much different. This specific production has an arc, a tragic arc, and “The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In)” at the end of Act 2 plays more like a requiem than a celebration.

A requiem for the young men who died in a senseless war and a requiem for a time now nearly sixty years gone. In today’s world there can never be another hippie-esque outgrowth.  We’re too entrenched in capitalism and name brands.  Instead of tie-dye we have Tik Tok.  Instead of the Age of Aquarius we now live in the Age of Amazon.  Burn baby burn may still be a mantra these days, but instead of draft cards people are burning Teslas.

Whatever you think of the hippies, they were a lot of fun.  But the fun ended circa 1969 and 1970 with the Manson murders, Altamont and the Kent State shootings.  And since then, the world of Haight has turned into our current world of Hate.  

We live in too much cushy comfort to ever go back to those hippie-dippy days of Be-Ins and drop outs.  Leaving social media like Facebook or X may be revolutionary to some, but it’s not the same as dropping out of an entire society.

That’s why the musical HAIR is so important.  It brings back those days like a much-needed acid flashback.   And American Stage in the Park’s top-flight production is a must-see for a variety reasons, the top one being that it acts as a tonic—a remembrance of things past--in these troubled times (to put it mildly).

The brainchild of Gerome Ragni and James Rado (book and lyrics) and Galt MacDermot (music), HAIR: THE AMERICAN TRIBAL LOVE-ROCK MUSICAL focuses on a tribe of NYC hippies who deal with drugs, the draft, race, sex and sexuality, and ultimately, the Vietnam War.  Leading this counterculture clan are Claude Hooper Bukowski, who is soon being drafted, and George Berger, the leader of the tribe whose part gets eclipsed in Act 2 as the Vietnam War theme escalates.  

Although this production of HAIR contains no nudity like the other productions of it that I have seen, the language is the same and thankfully not neutered.  And since it’s blaring throughout the streets of St. Petersburg, I wonder what patrons eating outside would think as their dinners are being interrupted by the naughtiness of a song like “Sodomy” or the litany of racial epithets recited in “Colored Spade.”    

This HAIR, also known here as HAIR IN THE PARK, contains superb performances from each member of the tribe.  As Claude, Henry Hawes has both an innocence and an intensity; he also sports a wonderful Gavin Creel/Cheshire Cat smile. His “I Got Life” and “Where Do I Go?” are sensational; he feels invisible, on the outside of both hippie life and society itself. He plays the dichotomous role correctly, an individual torn between the world of the hippies and that of being a soldier (which straight society deems as right, even if it means you may lose your life).  When a man tells him to “Start facing reality,” he answers, “Which reality?” It’s an answer worthy of this hippie Hamlet, this human tug-of-war rope.

I have always found the part of Berger more obnoxious than endearing, and EJ Dohring plays into this fantastically.  He portrays Berger like an animal, always grabbing his crotch or his butt, an in-your-face, don’t-give-a-shit beast.  Act 1 is his party.  In the song “Hair,” he even lifts up his shirt to show off some body hair.  He’s always on the prowl for a good time, but reality comes knocking with his verbal abuse of his girlfriend, Sheila.  The argument over a yellow shirt is given the spotlight treatment here, showing the darker side of hippie life (they can be as trivial and as much of a bully as anyone). You believe him when he says, “I hate the f*cking world, don’t you?”

Emma Rose Johnson is a knockout as Sheila (to use a boxing metaphor), and her “Easy to Be Hard” is a home run (to use a baseball one). I love how the rest of the cast is oblivious to her obvious plight during the iconic number.

Zoe Grolnick, sporting an Edie Sedgwick hairstyle, plays Jeannie just right, the pot-smoking pregnant gal with a heart of gold.  Her “Air”—an environmental song way ahead of its time—is performed marvelously.

Delores McKenzie is a dynamic Dionne, bringing out her inner Aretha and even out Franklin’s Miss Franklin with her own (brief) take of “Think.”  She, along with the outstanding duo of Imani Gholson and Jai Shanae, make the song “White Boys” shine. And in the hands of Ms. McKenzie, songs like “Walking in Space" become a tour de force.

Equally good is Mathenee Treco as Hud, who is brilliant in such songs as “Colored Spade” and “Yes, I’s Finished.”  Yes, it is ironic that one of the leads in HAIR has his head completely shaved, but I prefer that to having him wear an oversized afro wig.  I recall Mr. Treco as being the standout as Lumiere in last years In the Park happening, Beauty and the Beast; he’s just as astonishing here.

Ethan Walker is brilliant as Woof, the more flamboyant tribe member who wears a technicolor dreamcoat and loves Mick Jagger so much that he actually molests a poster of the Rolling Stone. Rachel Miller as Crissy perfectly performs my favorite song from the show, “Frank Mills,” sort of a short encapsulation of the entire Sixties experience, complete with a George Harrison reference and a mention of the Hell’s Angels.  

Jospeh Condon brings so much heart, soul and understanding to the part of the older woman, Margaret Mead.  The audience erupted into applause when the character, sounding like Carol Channing, announces at the start of “My Conviction”: “You know kids, I wish every mom and dad would make a speech to their teenagers and say, ‘Kids, be free, be whatever you are, do whatever you want to do, just so long as you don’t hurt anybody.’”

The talented Ethan Zeph and Tristan Braboy round out the ensemble, Mr. Braboy resembling Pasolini’s Christ merged with Charles Manson and Jared Leto.

The band, led by music director Jeremy D. Silverman, gets things rocking, pulling a Hendrix solo here, distorted reverbs there.  They play like they’re in rock n roll heaven, with Joe grady on bass, Burt Rushing on drums, Paul Stoddart on the electric and acoustic guitars, Robert Baldridge on trumpet, David Hope on the trombone, and Tony Fuoco on reeds.  Some of the best renditions of these songs—especially “Hashish,” "Hare Krishna/Be-In," and “Walking in Space”—never sounded better.  It’s impossible not to tap your feet to this rollicking score, some of the most famous theatre songs of the 1960s getting the A+ treatment here.

Jessica Cancino’s scene design, like an oversized erector set perfect for the tribe members to play in, works quite well. I particularly appreciated the crate covers turned into swings and the giant sunset crowns that move throughout the show.  Barry Steele’s lighting is perfect, especially when dark skies set in and we see all of the effects in their flashing, psychedelic glory.    

Best of all is Kenny Moten’s direction along with choreographer Jessica Hindsley.  This locomotive of a production never loses its steam, even when it probes the darker side of humanity near the end.  The cast moves about the stage and races throughout the audience, always on the move, interacting with the audience members, never stopping for breath.  It’s a work that is totally, 100% ALIVE. 

Ingenious moments include a deadly game of Duck Duck Goose before the song “Three-Five-Zero-Zero,” like something straight out of Squid Games.  And the song itself erupts into a feel-good gospel tune about death. The entirety of Claude's History-of-War hallucination is marvelous, like a prolonged Laugh-In skit. And then the spirit of past Shakespeare in the Park performances came alive with the touching duet, “What a Piece of Work Is Man” (lyrics taken directly from Hamlet).

Some nitpicks to note: Although the sound is so much better than other years of the American Stage in the Park experience, there was a slight snafu on opening night when Berger’s mic went out at the start of “Going Down,” quickly saved by a handheld microphone.  Also, some of the lyrics got lost in the mix; for example, if you didn’t know the song was called “Black Boys,” you would never know what the three young ladies were singing about.  (“Black Boys” is a hilarious song, but some of the humor gets lost when the lyrics are garbled.)  And a list of songs would be helpful to add in the digital program.

HAIR is a blast to watch, so much fun, and yet, at the end, I started tearing up.  The mantra—“How dare they try to end this beauty”—really hit home.  And when one of the character’s tragedy is played out—the sad demise of one man’s life as well as the hippie spirit--we think about all of those young men and women who had died unnecessarily in Vietnam (or even those who succumbed to drug overdoses).  We realize that we haven’t moved forward nearly enough as a society; that the hippie spirit paraded on the stage and in the audience really is (unfortunately) a relic of the past, dead and buried.  The director pinpoints these moments so that HAIR isn’t as frothy or sudsy as you might remember; that it actually has substance, a deeper meaning, so that we tap our toes to the great songs even while we wipe away the tears. 

At the venue, posters for the SAVE THE PARK fundraisers pepper the Demens Landing grounds.  Watching HAIR, you can’t help but realize how important these park shows are to not only the arts community but to the entire St. Petersburg local neighborhoods, where nearby restaurants and bars are aided by the extra customers coming into their establishments pre-show and post-show.  And there’s nothing like the live moments that these park shows promise, such as when a character sings of being in Vietnam, and an actual helicopter accidentally flies overhead.  When the hippies sing “How dare they try to end this beauty,” this SAVE THE PARK campaign came to my mind as well. Let’s hope these American Stage in the Park happenings keep happening, so that we can enjoy these needed moments of escape (like next year’s Into the Woods) even more.

American Stage in the Park’s electrifying HAIR plays at Demens Landing Park until April 27th. Make sure to check the weather report for the night you are attending.  Otherwise bring a blanket and let the sunshine in! Photo Courtesy of Chaz D Photography.

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