Competent ‘Hair’ revels in its own kitsch
Broadway in Chicago presents |
Hair |
Book/Lyrics by Gerome Ragni & James Rado Music by Galt MacDermot Directed by Diane Paulus at the Oriental Theatre, 24 W. Randolph (map) through March 20 | tickets: $27-$90 | more info |
Reviewed by Dan Jakes
If the pre-show announcement–which asks that you please turn on your heart and to please turn off your cell phone–isn’t a clear indication, there’s plenty of proverbial winking in director Diane Paulus’ Hair. From the restrained band volume to the affable, mostly miles-from-the-danger-line interactions between actors and audience, we’re assured from the beginning that the night’s show is going to be professional, going to be groovy, and going to be safe.
Safety, of course, was not what made Gerome Ragni and James Rado’s rock-musical about a tribe of hippies significant. It defied modern standards of decency, blazed new theatrical territory and was written and performed in the chaotic epicenter of the same cultural revolution it advocated.
Today, young, accomplished, svelte actors teeter on some house seats, take a few trips down the aisles, dry hump for effect, and stand naked for the requisite nude scene.
But let’s face it. Entertainment value aside, The Man acquisitioned Hair a long time ago. It’s unclear when, but the changeover presumably took place some time after religious groups stopped picketing outside of performances and some time before it began running in theaters named after multi-billion dollar car companies.
During this revival, I thought about what, if any, our contemporary equivalent to the monument Hair was in its heyday for intrepidity and relevance. It’s certainly nothing that can be described in the same genre (in the grand scheme of art and provocation, rock-musicals are now, by more honest billing, lite-rock-musicals). I won’t pretend to romanticize living in the late 1960’s–one, I would not yet exist as a fetus for another two decades and two, it was a notoriously violent era of persecution, uncertainty, hate, and abused authority–but I can appreciate the time’s profound art and its ability to have instigated change.
Yet the national conflicts Ragni and Rado wrote about are still (in some cases, eerily) recognizable. Our current generation is witness to an aggressively protested war, sex as a talking point for political candidates, old white men tossing around the word “communist” to rebuke lefties, and mainstream efforts to legalize marijuana. Then is it fair to wonder if, for all its critical acclaim, this latest resurgence of Hair missed an opportunity to be more than a technically laudable send-up to a counter-cultural artifact?
It’s telling that during opening night’s post-curtain-call “Be-In,” where the tribe welcomes the audience onstage to dance through a reprise, the cast really had to coax people to budge. Some inevitably jumped up, but most smiled good-naturedly while inconspicuously grabbing their coats and eying the exits.
Some rapport never got established.
And some did. As Berger, Steel Burkhardt has the most opportunity to break down the fourth-wall and create a sense of community. He doesn’t as often as I‘d have liked, but his allocated moments for addressing the audience are the most entertaining, substantive parts of the show. Taking a gentle stab at an over-zealous laugher is funny–allowing another to stuff single dollar bills down his suede fringe loincloth is funny and opens up the risk and fun of watching anything-goes action. The rest of Hair could benefit from this sense of happening and authenticity.
Vocally, the ensemble is consistent, and fits well within the folk-rock style Galt MacDermot’s compositions call for. Appropriately cast, these kids look and sound like the embodiment of young idealism and acceptance. At times, they’re sublime.
Billing a show as a revival carries a certain weight, implication and spirit. I’m not confident this latest production lives up to these. But as a fully-produced tribute, it’s at least a good trip.
Rating: ★★★ |
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Hair continues through March 20th, with performances Tuesday at 7:30, Wednesday 2 and 7:30pm, Thursday 7:30pm, Friday 8pm, Saturday 2 and 8pm, and Sunday 2pm. Tickets are $27 and $90, and can be bought at www.broadwayinchicago.com.
Creative/Production Team
Book/Lyrics: Germone Ragni & James Rado, Composer: Galt MacDermot, Director: Diane Paulus, Choreographer: Karole Armitage, Scenic Designer: Scott Pask, Costume Design: Michael McDonald, Lighting: Kevin Adams, Wig Design: Gerard Kelly. All photos by Joan Marcus.
Filed under: 2011 Reviews, Broadway in Chicago, Dan Jakes, Ford Center for the Perfoming Arts, Musical, National Tours, Oriental Theatre (Ford) | Tagged: Alison Guinn, Allison Guinn, Arbender Robinson, Broadway in Chicago, Cailan Rose, Caren Lyn Tackett, Dan Jakes, Darius Nichols, Diane Paulus, Emily Afton, Ford Center for the Performing Arts, Galt MacDermot, Gerard Kelly, Gerome Ragni, Hair the Musical, Jame Rado, Jen Sese, Joan Marcus, John Moauro, Josh Lamon, Kacie Sheik, Kaitlin Kiyan, Karole Armitage, Kevin Adams, Lee Zarett, Lee Zarrett, Lulu Fall, Marshal Kennedy Carolan, Matt DeAngelis, Michael McDonald, Mike Evariste, Nicholas Belton, Nkrumah Gatling, Oriental Theatre, Paris Remillard, Phyre Hawkins, Sara Ruzicka, Scott Pask, Shaleah Adkisson, Steel Burkhardt |
Regarding the opening night post-curtain-call “Be-In”, where the cast welcomes the audience onstage to dance…and the reviewer said “Some rapport never got established.” and there were very few takers to join the Tribe onstage.
Well…I was there on the SECOND night, and that stage was PACKED with exuberant audience members (including myself and friends, who bolted without hesitation onto the stage). It was the most glorious feeling to be up there, looking out on the audience and gorgeuos Oriental Theater from the actors’ point of view, our arms swaying in the air in unison, spontaneous crowd choreography to Let The Sunshine In. (the band was fantastic) The folks who declined the invitation on missed out on something really rare and special! It was a very groovy high, man!
Peace, love, and bell bottoms.