It’s a new dawn for the age of Aquarius as Hair’s cast let it all hang out. Photo: Michael Le Poer Trench
When this original “rock musical” was first performed in New York in the late 1960s, the world was a very different place. By the time it crossed the Atlantic, the Lord Chamberlain had stepped aside in the nick of the time, allowing performers to give vent to “Sodomy”, “Hashish” and “Coloured Spade”, and a host of more recognisable numbers. It is a musical I have always wanted to see.
At the time it was bold and brave, not simply because of the content, but because of the way in which the original producers set out to break down the barriers between audience and performers. This production, which features an entire Broadway cast in London for the first time, achieves this with aplomb. From the moment Hair’s Tribe, led by the lupine Will Swenson takes to the stage the audience is in danger of being hugged, kissed, cajoled and given a flower. Of course, the youth and general attractiveness of this astonishingly high quality cast makes this not an altogether unpleasant experience – certainly the Geilgud Theatre has never felt quite like this before.
So much has been made over the years about the nude rebelliousness of Hair that you almost need reminding just how good much of Galt MacDermot’s music is. “Ain’t Got No/I Got Life” remains a glorious affirmation of how little we actually need, never more so than when sung by Claude, the excellent Gavin Creel. However, Hair has always been about much more than music. It is about love, peace, understanding, and yes, it is an anti-war musical. Despite the changing times, these are wishes that never age.
Once again, Hair has found its time and in quite spectacular fashion. The plot, for what it’s worth, tells of a tribe of pot-loving hippies whose idyllic free love existence is threatened by the Vietnam draft. That’s more or less it. You get the feeling that a tab of LSD might have led to greater audience understanding, but when the performers are this engaging – and so damn sexy to boot– it’s difficult not to be swept up in a tide of optimism, and yes regret that things didn’t turn out the way the Tribe, and we, would have liked.
However, it is not the psychedelic rock joy of songs such as “Aquarius” and “Let the Sunshine in” that really move, it is the quieter “What a Piece of Work is Man” towards the end of the show that raises goose pimples and leaves you reflecting on what might have been. You don’t need to be mid-way through a bad trip for Shakespeare to chill the marrow. Thankfully, “Good Morning Starshine” blows away the chill immediately.
Then it’s time to “Let the Sunshine In”, and the audience, which seems not just happy but genuinely grateful, rises as one to dance, in the aisles or on stage. There’s no escaping the cast, or the fact that that Hair remains a great big burst of joy.
