The Bad Reason I Didn't Like Hair

I know I ragged on The Public's staging of Hair, but credit where credit's due; there was one really good moment in the production...

"Hair" rang out over the speaker system. The cast danced like dervishes through the audience and soon, half the audience (including me) had joined them on stage. The mood was electric, members of the audience dances with the cast and with each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and, at the end of it all, Jonathan Groff autographed my Metrocard. So what was the problem? The dance number came after the curtain call.

The actors were talented and appeared passionate, but, until that last number, I couldn't really believe it. The lack of plot or character development for most of the characters meant that all of the mood swings (mostly back and forth between bliss and comatose) were chemically fuelled and difficult for the mostly sober audience to share.

But the show wouldn't have been fixed by simply pulling the audience on stage earlier. Interactivity is great, but not in the form of blind enthusiasm. Ultimately, Hair suffered from comparison with my friend and classmate, Rafael Kern's production this year of The Bacchae.

Rafa incorporated audience participation from the opening of the show, when the cast threw open the doors of the theatre and pulled the audience in for dances and revels. He and the cast kept the energy high, so I spent the nearly the entire show in a state of Dionysian exhilaration. Which made the crash so much more wrenching.

Before the physical dismemberment of Pentheus, the cast circled on him and tore apart his concept of self. (Hard to describe on paper, frightening in person). They turned on him with now-playful-now-earnest cruelty, and the worst part was, if they had transitioned to this abuse straight from the dancing, it was hard to imagine that the audience wouldn't have joined in the taunting or that we might have gone so far as to strike Elliot (the actor playing Pentheus).

Rafa's production had the biggest impact on me of all the shows I saw this year because he transported you into the world of the play, and then, once he sucked you in, he made you complicit.

Hair failed for me because, even at its most engrossing, it was without consequence. The main characted, Claude, is lost to the drugged-out collective, but solely due to the outside influence of the US Army. Nothing suggests that the culture presented is not self-sustaining. If I wanted a happy-go-lucky musical with confusing shifts in mood I'd rewatch Mamma Mia!

Sorry, Public Theatre. No guilt. No good review.