UCI performers let 'Hair' down in robust revival - Los Angeles Times
Advertisement

UCI performers let ‘Hair’ down in robust revival

Share via

Tom Titus

Some sage once said, if you can remember the 1960s, you weren’t

really there. And certainly those characters depicted in the rock

musical “Hair” -- if they’re still around in the 21st century --

would recall the latter years of that decade through a hazy,

hallucinogenic blur.

It’s taken 35 years, but UC Irvine has finally given this “tribal

rock musical” its moment in the sun. Somewhat juvenile by today’s

standards (“Rent,” for example), “Hair” nevertheless functions as a

high-voltage retrospective of an era when antiwar protesters had a

vested interest in their cause -- unlike those today who oppose U.S.

involvement in Iraq, it was their own heads that might be blown off

in Vietnam.

Today’s youthful audience might view the scenes depicting the

burning of draft cards with a bemused shrug, but in 1968, selective

service was a specter hovering over an entire generation. Its

response (“Hell no, we won’t go”) was amplified and set to a vibrant

beat in “Hair.”

At UCI, director Keith Fowler -- who does remember the 1960s and

saw the original Broadway production -- brings this testy,

confrontational era back to life with a supremely energetic cast of

students spilling all over the stage of the Claire Trevor Theater and

often into the audience as well.

It’s the ensemble excitement, choreographed by Janice Gudde

Plastino, that gives “Hair” its contagious appeal -- certainly not

its plot, sketchily created by Gerome Ragni and James Rado, which

exists only to further the cause of Galt MacDermot’s music, here

faithfully delivered by Dennis Castellano at the helm of a

seven-piece combo.

All of this off-the-wall activity transpires on an inspired

junkyard setting designed by Lindsay Gassaway, which offers protest

pictures from the 1960s emblazoned on a pair of bedsheet screens to

set the proper pre-show mood. Actors also mingle with the patrons

before the action begins, one petite blond offering to paint peace

signs on playgoers’ arms.

Once the show gets under way, only a few actors in the splendidly

drilled ensemble take center stage. The key figure is Claude (Tyler

Stamets), who’s just gotten his “greetings” from Uncle Sam and is

celebrating his last night of freedom with the “tribe.” Stamets

conveys his apprehensive confusion about his future skillfully.

Martin Giannini as the ruler of the tribe, the combative Berger,

is a powerful stage presence, bending others to his will. Brett

Teresa tears up the stage as Woof, a straight fellow with the hots

for Mick Jagger.

The haunting melodies that emerged from the show to infect

America’s consciousness -- “Easy to be Hard,” “Good Morning

Starshine” -- are delivered with an abundance of heart by Teal Wicks,

who also sizzles as Berger’s girlfriend, defying his bequest to share

her charms with Claude on his last night home.

Beyond these few actors, only Sean Murtaugh -- in “Dame Edna” drag

as a visitor called Big Mama -- makes any kind of individual

impression. But the ensemble of 34 performers creates a powerful

force, particularly while delivering the all-out closing number “Let

the Sun Shine In.”

Most impressive in the UCI production is an extended sequence

representing Claude’s hallucination -- placing him on the front lines

of Vietnam and center stage for the carnage. This is ensemble

presentation at its most effective.

There is, of course, the requisite nudity (both male and female)

that broke ground in 1968 for the anything-goes attitude of today’s

theater (and spiked the Broadway show’s box office numbers). It’s

fairly tasteful by modern standards. Most of the actors remain

clothed throughout, with Jenny and Megan Owings’ hippie costumes

firmly establishing the era.

The “Age of Aquarius” is back after a long absence, and UCI’s

pulsating production of “Hair” provides it with an uncanny immediacy.

* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Daily Pilot. His reviews

appear Saturdays.

Advertisement