Catherine Rodriguez O’Connor (center) and the cast of Kokandy Productions’ revival of “Hair.”/Photo: Michael Brosilow
RECOMMENDED
Kokandy Productions keeps knocking it out of the park.
In its last season, the Non-Equity musical theater company produced award-winning runs of “Jekyll & Hyde” and “Amélie.” Its haunting 2024 staging of “Into the Woods” got five Jeff awards.
And now here’s “Hair”—a sparkling, humorous and furious version of the 1967 “tribal love-rock musical” that celebrates the 1960s counterculture. The music, composed by Galt MacDermot with book and lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado, is so great that it’s hard to say that it’s ever a bad time to revive the show. But now is a particularly good time, with the country again in a dubious war and tragically polarized. The Kokandy production, directed and choreographed by Brennan Urbi, keeps the sixties costumes and plot while updating it with protest signs and audience-generated graffiti about modern concerns, like immigrant and trans rights.
“Hair” is more of a rock opera than a regular American musical, with much more singing than dialogue. The minimal plot centers on Claude Bukowski (Gavin Rhys) trying to figure out who he is in the world, and whether he can do what is necessary to dodge the draft. He gets into a relationship with both Berger (Zac Richey), a polyamorous prankster, and Sheila (Catherine Rodriguez O’Connor), an activist. They are part of a tribe of young rebels living on the streets of New York City, proclaiming their disdain for authority, convention and America’s “dirty little war.”
Backed by a terrific off-stage rock band with music direction by Kara Olander, the tribe sings songs about racial injustice (“Colored Spade” and “Abie, Baby”), cultural revolution (“Aquarius”), poverty (“Ain’t Got No”), drugs (“Walking in Space” and “Hashish”), pollution (the prescient “Air”) and lots of sex (“Sodomy,” “Black Boys,” “White Boys,” etc.). It’s both silly and serious, just as the 1960s protests were.
The silliness—with Berger taking off his pants and swinging his tighty-whitied butt at the audience, or Woof (the elven Stone TeSelle) pretending to be a blue-haired sociologist (“My Conviction”)—is concentrated in the first act. The second act gets dark fast, with an acid trip and the tribe facing the consequences of war. The message is simple. Life is beautiful; people should live as long as they like as long as they’re not hurting anybody; and war is a terrible thing.
Left to right: Nicki Rossi, Mateo Palm, Amy Yesom Kim, Diana Marilyn Alvarez, Zac Richey, Stone TeSelle, Shayla Florence and Kijani X in Kokandy Productions’ revival of “Hair”/Photo: Michael Brosilow
The material holds up both because of the quality of the music and because the lyrics are still relevant and occasionally shocking. There’s no nudity in this production, though four-letter words are abundant. The ugly racial slurs sung by Black members of the cast in “Colored Spade” were meant to make a satirical point about racism—in fact, a curtain slides across the back of the theater reminding everyone that “This is a satire.” But some audience members were noticeably troubled.
There is also recognition in the show that the “free love” ethic wasn’t always easy to act out in real life—people got hurt, as O’Connor beautifully expresses in the ballad “Easy to Be Hard.” O’Connor is a powerhouse with a big, velvety voice, strong and beautiful.
Other standouts in this young, talented cast include Chosen Mitchell as Dionne, resplendent in a purple afro, leading on “Aquarius” and a beautiful “Walking in Space,” along with O’Connor and Nicki Rossi as the pregnant Jeanie. As Berger, Richey resembles a young Brad Pitt and is filled with hilarious antic energy. Also excellent is Joshua Emmanuel as Hud, leading “Colored Spade” and “Don’t Put it Down,” with Richey and TeSelle. As Crissy, Amy Yesom Kim gives a sweetly earnest, bell-like rendition of “Frank Mills,” my favorite song in the show. It’s like a Kinks song, not in melody, but in being a perfect short story, a jewel amidst the chaos.
As Claude, Gavin Rhys has wonderful charisma, drawing all eyes. His character is necessarily more restrained than that of the rest of the tribe, since he’s still trying to figure out his path. He’s the musical’s romantic everyman, its Childe Harold. But I wished his performance was a little bigger—I wanted to hear him bust out that fine voice more on “Manchester, England” and “Where Do I Go?” Maybe that will come in future shows.
The choreography is creative and appropriate for the homemade ethic of the counterculture, with dancing that looks loose, spontaneous and easy, when it’s not. There was even one performer singing upside down from a scaffold.
In the intermission, audience members are encouraged to take magic markers and add their own opinions to the wooden risers that form the set. The messages include lewd suggestions aimed at Donald Trump, ICE, Elon Musk and AI. It was one of the ways the audience was made to feel they were part of the show, as did the tight quarters of Chopin’s small mainstage theater. The show is infectious, and you leave it feeling loopy and swingy, with your hair a little longer.
Kokandy Productions presents “Hair” at Chopin Theatre, 1543 West Division, through September 13. Tickets here.
