Review - Hair: Summer Lovin'

"That's me up there," said the gentleman sitting to my right at Tuesday night's performance of Hair when I ask him at intermission if he was having a good time.

I knew his response would be positive, as I could hear him obviously being moved by the production during the first act. He was a big guy, strong, maybe in his early 60s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and sporting a crew cut. To look at him you might think he was a retired cop or a Vietnam vet. For all I know, maybe he was. But in row K of the St. James Theatre there was a rush of memories passing through him of his youthful days as a hippie.

"That was my life in those days. The music, the clothes, peace and love. I wouldn't change a bit of it. Not one bit."

Over forty years after its premiere as the first production in Joseph Papp's Public Theatre, not all of Hair goes down well with contemporary audiences. There's the positive and sometimes comical depiction of casual drug use and the strong suggestion of unprotected sex with multiple partners, not to mention the reality that many of the characters seemed to be in no hurry to get jobs, living off their parents while denouncing the morals they stand for. But what the fellow sitting next to me saw most of all was the supportive community of friends that these youngsters had formed.

"My kids are great," he told me, "but I feel sorry for them. They sit at their computers all day. When I was that age I went out and I met other kids. We shared our music, our ideas, we cared about each other. That's what this show is all about."

That sense of a supportive community wasn't always a part of Hair, which went through wholesale changes between its successful, but not earth-shattering original run at The Public and its nearly unthinkable Broadway success. Bookwriter/lyricists Gerome Ragni and James Rado were a couple of struggling New York actors who saw the flower power movement as a juicy subject for a musical where they could write leading roles for themselves. Ragni was Berger, a cocky, sexually charged high school student and de facto leader of a tribe of Manhattan hippies and Rado was his newly-drafted buddy Claude, who couldn't decide if he should join his friends in burning their draft cards and, if necessary, fleeing to Canada, or comply with his parents' wishes that he go fight in Vietnam for his country.

Galt MacDermot, a clean-cut suburban dad, composed a score that fused rock with funk, rockabilly and showtune, but the show never jelled until the genius downtown experimental theatre director, Tom O'Horgan, was brought in. At O'Horgan's insistence, chunks of the already thin book were removed and new songs were added, but most importantly, he had the actors think of the characters they were playing as a tribe of outcasts, born from the generation of Americans that won World War II and rebelling against being drafted into a new war. They bonded through a mutual need for breaking conventions through anarchy, which was expressed on stage through comic vaudevilles mimicking Marx Brothers irreverence (Is is any wonder that, before the age of home videos, the late 60s saw a renewed interest in the films of the Marx Brothers?) and songs that flippantly expressed then-shocking sentiments like, "Black boys are delicious," "Masturbation can be fun," and the positively brilliant, "Answer my weary query, Timothy Leary, dearie."

With a score that frequently hits gorgeous peaks (the mystically moody "Aquarius," the softly whimsical "Good Morning, Starshine," the merrily mod "Manchester, England," the grimly poetic "The Flesh Failures (Let The Sun Shine In)" the plaintive "Where Do I Go?," and the celebratory title song) Hair can easily slip into being treated as a concert with a slight narrative, but director Diane Paulus, who assembled the text for this production from its various developmental stages, emphasizes that sense of community in both its positive and flawed aspects. When political activist Sheila, the only character who is actually working to improve the world and make a future for herself, sings "Easy To Be Hard," the lyric illuminates how many of her friends can mindlessly chant for peace and love without truly understanding their responsibility to themselves and those around them.

When this production originated in Central Park, and then initially moved to Broadway, Paulus had the advantage of working with seasoned musical theatre actors who not only sang the score beautifully and expressively, but had the serious acting chops to truly delve into the material and bring out unwritten details. Now, the national tour of Hair settles into the St. James for a summer stopover, with a smaller, easier-to-travel version of Scott Pask's scaffold set and a company made up of both newcomers and understudies graduating to leading roles. While the new cast is energetic and enthused, there are a few pitfalls.

Several of the performers spoke a good deal of their lyrics on Tuesday night, a sure sign of vocal fatigue, while others strained for high notes. There were the occasional lapses into contemporary singing styles, particularly when Kaitlin Kiyan power belted "Frank Mills," sapping the simple ballad of its naiveté. There is less acting this time around and more performing.

But the material is stellar and Paulus' smart staging keeps the trouble spots in check. Steel Berkhardt makes for a funny; sexually free Berger and Paris Remillard counters with a sweet and empathetic Claude. Phyre Hawkins gets the show off to an enchanting start as she leads the tribe in "Aquarius" and Darrius Nichols scores in both humor and funk as Hud, the black guy who loves making white people uncomfortable. The most interesting of the bunch is Caren Lyn Tackett, who strikes the balance between activist Sheila's serious commitment to human rights and her phantasmagoric belief in the mind's spiritual power to levitate The Pentagon.

If Hair returns with the faint whiff of summer stock in the air, it's still a heck of a fun party with a poignant kick-in-the-gut finish. Just ask my seat-neighbor, who I last saw joyously dancing on stage at the finale, no doubt with a heart full of memories of summers of love.

Photos by Joan Marcus.

Click here to follow Michael Dale on Twitter.