You’re a true piece of artistic expression. Polarizing. Controversial. Confronting.
Channelling the spirit of the social and political unrest of the 60’s, you take us on quite a trip. Claude (Alex Cooper), a member of a hippie tribe in East Village New York, is conscripted to join the Vietnam War. But you’re actually not here to tell us his story, or any story really. You’re here to convey a vibe.
It’s the vibe of the counterculture era – peace, love, and all things sexual, experimental, and anti-war rebellion. Your costumes, props and set all combine to reflect this perfectly (and apparently gathered from recycled and repurposed materials– oh you are so on theme). So, you’re far too psychedelic to be boring. Even though your plot is disjointed and – well – just plain weird, it’s utterly fascinating.
Though as we’ve mentioned, you’re provocative – with very little of the original script having been changed for a modern audience. Intentional on your part – we get it. But that does include nudity and drug use. (And a little hint: there is a lot more than just a little hint of these). Oh to be a fly on the wall when you first hit stages back in the 1960s, showcasing this crazy alternative lifestyle.
While you’ve been mocked and parodied over the intervening decades, the fact remains you’re one of those ‘bucket list’ shows, continuing to orbit our consciousnesses. Particularly those of your greyer-haired audience members, many with obvious nostalgic attachments to you. Or to the 60s in general. Hard to tell which.
Your cast are assembled by the Australian Shakespeare Company, and perhaps because of this, the standard of acting is high. To stand facing a packed theatre wearing absolutely nada… by golly, Hair, you’re making us blush. What we weren’t expecting was how much you’d be making us laugh too. You’re thankfully self-aware of your own absurdity, and your audience interaction brings a necessary dimension of down-to-earthiness. Luckily Brenda down the front doesn’t mind.
You’re also a true ensemble piece. Cooper and Maxwell Simon are brilliant in the primary roles of Claude and Berger respectively, but everyone gets their turn to shine. There are literally no background characters here, and each member of your cast is individually captivating. By the end of the 2.5 hours, it feels like we’ve grown somewhat attached to everyone in your tribe – hungry to know more. To have Mariah Lewy (Chrissy) serenade us again, and chuckle at Maverick Newman in drag. To understand the intricacies of Berger and Sheila’s (Elizabeth Brennan’s) relationship, and ogle some more at Linden Trescott’s (Apache’s) abs…olutely amazing backflips.
Your ensemble numbers are beautifully sung, and passably choreographed (but hey, this is the 60s – who needs sharp lines in a drug-induced haze?) Your finale number, The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In), is hard-hitting and worth sticking around for. While the rest of your songs are, at first glance, immemorable and chaotic, there’s actually something clever going on with those lyrics too, for those with the patience to listen again.
Hair, your intention is to provoke reflection and dialogue, and that you have. The spectrum of views is strong in either camp – you’re either an outdated, confusing mess of irrelevant flower power, or you’re a timely ushering in of a new Age of Aquarius: another round of ideological change and expanded consciousness. As Jonathon Lockwood Huie once said, ‘A flower is a weed seen through joyful eyes.’
With love,
Hair is showing at Theatre Royal Sydney until 12 July 2026. Photos by Daniel Boud.