Skip to content

Cinemalphabet: H is for Hair! (1979)

December 8, 2010

When Hair came back to Broadway last year my reaction was, “What in the name of Donnie Dacus is going on here?” On a cynical level I figured it was a johnny come lately attempt at dual war discourse, which may or may not be a fair assessment.

If you’re not acquainted with the musical, here’s the cheat sheet:

  • It tells the story of a somewhat racially diverse rag tag band of hippies who dance and sing their way through some of the most turbulent events of the late 60s.
  • Music by Galt MacDermot Lyrics James Rado & Gerome Ragni. Book by James Rado & Gerome Ragni
  • Original Broadway run includes: Diana Keaton (a train you’d be well advised to miss) Melba Moore, Ben Vereen, Keith Carradine, Barry McGuire, Ted Lange and Vicki Sue “Turn the Beat Around” Robinson.
  • has a nekkid scene sung to an incredibly punishing song called Walking in Space that starts all slow than then gets wocka wocka horntastic accompanied by appropriate amounts of jiggly bits liberating themselves from fashion stylist tape.
  • has helped more folks memorize Hamlet’s “What a Piece of Work is Man” than the Shakespearean text itself.

That said, it’s one of my favorite musicals. Moreover I have both seen and been in more than one or two productions of this musical – a staple of any production being there is more drama than the cast party of The Poseidon Adventure. Usually my contribution consists of singing Aquarius and then quickly ushered away from the mic to serve as colorful seat filler hippie, later reemerging to sing all the songs with “n-word” in the lyrics and if the production is really edgy – sing White Boys made popular by both Melba and my hero Neil Carter.

Ever since Milos cast a black woman to sing “Aquarius” in his film, if I audition for the production I say, “Let’s save a week, I’ll sing Aquarius and Three-Five-Zero-Zero and meet my quota of pulling random audience members on stage for Let the Sunshine sing-a-long.” – another staple of most productions.

The 1990 John F. Kennedy High School Production La Mommie graciously agreed to take both myself and my hippie friend Nicole to featured stand out performances by a senior name Joel, best known to us as the “hot guy in domestics at Target”. It also featured us being plucked from the audience to hippie dance ourselves up to the stage and sing along with the theater geeks, who graciously allowed us use of their mic packs.

My first production as an actual cast member involved so many arrests for hippie happy possession (not me!) – necessitating many casting changes and had me playing SHEILA at one point – was so terrible we didn’t bother with the full six scheduled runs. It also involved me playing Claude, then rising from the dead to sing “Let the Sunshine” and of course, pulling random strangers from the audience to accompany the cast on stage.

Milos Forman, like Hal Ashby and Barbet Schroeder (Reversal of Fortune) is a director whose work and themes I thoroughly enjoy, yet have never managed to gather my thoughts about him in any legitimate way. When trying to articulate my thoughts regarding Forman, I kept coming back to his ability to capture a sense of American Jingoism without mock or judgment, something I often find cheesy when the same elements are used in an Oliver Stone film.

Hair is the culmination of me getting Forman. Seeing the way he captures both the truisms of American life and the folly of it. The last scene in the movie presents stunning and chilling images of young boys, many of color and probably most of working class or poor backgrounds marching in precision into what looks at times to be a meat grinder.

Wasn’t it though?

That image has stayed with me evoking that level of intensity since I originally watched the film over twenty five years ago. When I think of Mr. Milos – and I often do – I picture an old world craftsperson working in a shop carving items for sale at market. I picture slow and careful movement of fingers, the dance of shavings falling to the ground and the simple yet elegant results of his labor.

That right there is what Forman does best.

9 Comments leave one →
  1. December 8, 2010 8:55 am

    I don’t even want to admit this, but I know every word to every song of the Broadway version and to every bit of the movie. This was one of our rainy day/home sick flicks when I was a kid. And don’t forget, Meatloaf was in the original Broadway run, too.

  2. December 8, 2010 9:41 am

    Oh yeah! I also sang this cast recording and movie soundtrack whenever I had a chance. I am singing “Frank Mills” right now!!!

  3. December 8, 2010 9:50 am

    We used to love to get our mom to sing that when we were kids. Why? I have no idea.

  4. Leah permalink
    December 8, 2010 2:53 pm

    i love this entry, and it’s so nice to read god i feel like i’ve been reading about rape all day! i discovered my mom’s hair original cast recording when i was 10 and rented the movie right away. i remember looking up every word of “sodomy” in the dictionary and immediately sharing the words with all my friends, i remember being filled with happiness when i read hamlet years later, etc. one of the first things i learned on the internet was that the only other role the dude who played annas in jesus christ superstar (my first movie musical love – i feel like it was on vh1 24/7 when i was 10-12) has ever had was singing part of “ain’t got no” in the hair movie. i also still get chills during the last song.

    a few years back i was going through a breakup and in a really bad mood and thought i’d take myself to see the broadway revival. i reasoned there was no way to fuck those songs up so bad i wouldn’t enjoy myself and likely cry. but they DID! the costumes were all ones you could find in like the halloween store under “hippie,” the choreography was like britney spears style, and they were all making broadway smiley faces throughout the entire thing.

  5. December 8, 2010 3:50 pm

    We used to love to get our mom to sing that when we were kids. Why? I have no idea.

    My mom would sing Frank Mills in such a funny voice, “he has gooolllld chains on his leather jacket…” would sound like the chorus to “Bridge over Troubled Water”

  6. AnthroK8 permalink
    December 8, 2010 4:47 pm

    My mom and dad went to see “Hair” on their honeymoon. In 1970. In San Francisco. The USAF officer and his newly wed sheltered Catholic school graduate of a wife.

    Apparently, when the so-dim-it-was-hard-to-REALLY-see scene ended in silence (*HIPPIE JAZZ HANDS*), my mom said in a stage whisper loud enough to carry several roles…. “OH MY… HE’S NAKED!”

    So anyway… apparently, they had a great time in SF, and I have loved “Hair” ever since I heard the story.

  7. December 8, 2010 5:48 pm

    @AnthroK8 – <3!!!

  8. December 9, 2010 4:43 pm

    For a time it seemed like Treat Williams was destined for greatness… I loved his performances in Hair, Prince of the City and Once Upon a Time in America. What happened to him?

  9. December 10, 2010 2:28 am

    Yeah, Treat Williams is an odd duck. I wonder if he was hard to work with or suddenly his scruffy look didn’t mesh well with the big, brassy square jawed yuppified 80s!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: