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.

The Good Reason I Didn't Like Hair

The Public Theatre (home of Shakespeare in the Park) opened its second show, Hair, for previews on Tuesday night. My family and I went together, and, I'm sad to say, I didn't enjoy it that much.

Although the show opened with remarks about Hair's relevance to today, the musical really felt dated and kitchy. When it premiered in 1968, many of the songs and sight gags were incredibly controversial, but now they fall flat, which is, in many cases, a good thing. I thought the "Black Boys/White Boys" song was a complete waste of time with lousy lyrics, sample:

Black boys are delicious
Chocolate flavored love
Licorice lips like candy
Keep my cocoa handy
I have such a sweet tooth
When it comes to love

but my perspective changed when I was reading about the show and found out that, since the show premiered so soon after the push to repeal anti-miscegenation laws, this song (sung by white girls) was shocking and offensive. A number of similar gags playing on racism, homophobism, and whatever the term is for people who are anti-nudist are obsolete.

It's a cultural victory that takes the fun out of seeing the show, except as an historical/anthropological document. It might have been better, but I'll save my other objections for my next post: "The Bad Reason I Didn't Like Hair.

N.B. Anyone near NYC who wants to see the show, it runs through the end of August and is totally free. To get tickets, you wait on line in the morning in Central Park. For veterans of the line, best show up early (8-9 am at the latest). My family got the very last tickets showing up at 11:30am for the first show of previews of a dated show that, apart from Jonathan Groff, had no stars. Enjoy.