As I've been mentioning, over the weekend I also saw Hair in Central Park at the Delacorte Theater. On the bus ride down, I was thinking about how most of the stuff I'd been reading about the production was focused on the social context of the show, and not so much on the show itself. For me, it's always about the inherent quality of the piece. Musicals that are merely (or mostly) a product of a particular time and place don't tend to age well (e.g. This is the Army and World War II, I Love My Wife and the sexual revolution).
When I teach my unit on the '60s in my course at the Boston Conservatory, I typically address Hair rather briefly. In the past, I've dismissed the show as a novelty, possessing a fantastic score but a sketchy and episodic book. Upon seeing this production, I've recognized that, while all that is still true, somehow these fragmented parts coalesce into a powerful whole, at least as realized in Diane Paulus' (The Donkey Show) dynamic production. Hair is unquestionably a product of its time, but it's also a stunning reminder of the power of theater as a form of protest and celebration.
Act one is a particularly piecemeal melange of sketches and songs, flowing with inchoate yet interrelated ideas and notions. The connecting tissue here is the choreography by Karole Armitage (Passing Strange), comprising swells and swirls of mass frenetic movement, only
sporadically resembling actual choreography, and I mean that in a good way. Armitage's amorphous clusters emphasize the importance of the tribe, and mirror the parts of the show converging toward a larger purpose.
The prime motor of the plot - Claude's draft notice - doesn't arrive until a half hour into the show, but once it does, it brings everything, and everyone, together. For the most part, the scattered structure works, although there are just a few too many numbers that don't really go anywhere, including the admittedly lovely "Frank Mills," which seems to exist merely to cover a costume change at the end of act 1.
The first act culminates with a draft-card burning ceremony of sorts, which builds hypnotically to Claude's "Where Do I Go?," delivered energetically here by Jonathan Groff. One of the major issues I had with the show is that we're never really sure why Claude is torn about going to war. We certainly understand why he *doesn't* want to go, but it's never really clear why he makes the final choice that he does.
Act two is much more powerful and cohesive than act 1. It's still fragmented, but somehow the pieces come together and the action builds to an emotional and satisfying climax. Hair is one of those shows that doesn't really work on paper, yet on stage all the elements come together to create something extraordinary.
Will Swenson as Berger makes for an effective foil to Groff's Claude. Swenson has this remarkable stage presence, which works much better here than it did in the last show I saw him in, The Slug Bearers of Karol Island (or the Friends of Doctor Rushower). (Read my review here.) In that show, Swenson's undeniable magnetism was more of a distraction than an enhancement, but here he brings just the right balance of playfulness and vulgarity to the proceedings.
Another standout in the cast was Andrew Kober, playing the father figure and then the Margaret Mead character during "My Conviction." Although his part here wasn't very big, he really distinguished himself as someone worth watching. The main hole in the cast was Caren Lyn Manuel as Sheila. There's no question she's a talented woman, but there was something about her look, style, and countenance that didn't fit in with the rest of the cast. Her style was too
modern Broadway, whereas the rest of the cast were firmly centered in
the manner of the '60s. Her "Easy to Be Hard" stopped the show
cold, but not in the good way. It was more like an "American Idol" audition.
The Public Theater recently announced that Hair has been extended again to September 7th. Although there have been rumors of a commercial transfer or tour for the show, I highly recommend that if you're going to see it, see it in the park. There's really no better place to see this powerful and important show.
