REVIEW: Hair
- Victoria Luxton (she/her)
- 3 days ago
- 4 min read
Goodness, where to begin?
There are few pieces of theatre recently that have made me long for the past.
No, no. I realise this was a time of political unrest, war and incredibly complex issues I cannot begin to understand as a millennial.
Or... wait.
Is the world really hugely different?
Hair made me question that.
Opening night at Theatre Royal Sydney was absolutely alight with flower power. Even the ushers wore cute sunglasses and flower crowns. The red carpet was a flash of fluffy, hippy- dippy, peace-and-love energy and the foyer buzzed with anticipation. I ordered a Negroni, spotted MasterChef royalty Julie Goodwin across the room, and soaked up what can only be described as an electric, groovy atmosphere.
Directed by Glenn Elston, this production understands that Hair is less about plot and more about experience.
The set cleverly evokes a world somewhere between Greenwich Village and Central Park. Scaffold, rolling platforms, movable staircases, a handful of street signs and a giant circular projection screen create a playground for the tribe to inhabit. During Claude's LSD trip, those signs slowly revolve while psychedelic projections flood the stage. The imagery shifts between playful, surreal and deeply unsettling. War footage, iconic American imagery and kaleidoscopic visuals combine to create some of the production's most memorable moments.
The costumes deserve their own moment.
Goodness, they had me longing for colour. I wear so much black. Kaspa's designs are a celebration of the era without ever feeling like caricature. Every fringe, flare, sleeve and embroidered blouse feels thoughtfully considered, creating distinct visual identities for each member of the tribe. What impressed me most was how well the costumes served the performers themselves. Each character felt carefully crafted through their visual design, with silhouettes and styling that celebrated the individuality of the cast rather than forcing them into a singular aesthetic.
It was a surprise and delight from start to finish. Yes, even Berger's strange little loincloth eventually won me over.
Then there is the famous scene.
A large white parachute billows across the stage before the cast disappear beneath it and emerge nude for the final number before interval. I'll admit, there was a little sense of, "Ooh, here we go"
This is Hair after all. The scene is famous.
But what stayed with me afterwards wasn't the nudity.
It was the humanity.
Perhaps it was the diversity of the cast. Perhaps it was the vulnerability. Perhaps it was simply a reminder that underneath all the labels we place on ourselves, we are remarkably alike. In a world increasingly filtered through social media and curated versions of ourselves, there was something beautiful about seeing people simply exist as they are.
The love this generation had for one another radiates through the production. And no, not just because they were all high.
Alex Cooper is exceptional as Claude. His performance anchors the evening, carrying both the idealism and eventual heartbreak of the character. When Claude is drafted, we feel the fear. When he is forced into conformity, we feel the loss. Watching such a young man confronted with the realities of war felt devastating. It also felt alarmingly relevant. How can people be so heartless? How is war still happening?
Maxwell Simon's Berger is charismatic, cheeky and entirely at home breaking the fourth wall. His audience interaction became one of the evening's unexpected highlights. One audience member named Wendy found herself repeatedly woven into the action, culminating in a joke about who in the audience might have drugs. Poor Wendy. The entire theatre was in on it.
Elizabeth Brennan's Sheila is wonderfully grounded, delivering some beautifully nuanced acting through song. Rosie Meader's Jeanie was a personal favourite. With expressive physicality, awkward charm and a face that seemed to tell a story before she even sang a note, she was endlessly watchable.
Tane Williams-Accra's smooth vocals and effortless stage presence made Hud impossible to ignore whenever he stepped onstage. Meanwhile, Maverick Newman proved a comic standout as Leonard and Iris. Their performance was hilarious from start to finish, filled with sharp character work and impeccable timing. Alongside Madeleine Somers' Herbert, they created some of the funniest moments of the evening. Jackson McGovern also threw himself wholeheartedly into Woof, delivering one of the night's most memorable performances.
The choreography by Sue-Ellen Shook feels wild, free and wonderfully unpolished in exactly
the right way. The cast move with reckless joy rather than precision, creating the sense that
anything could happen at any moment.
There was only one moment that gave me pause. A scene involving two Indian characters, one portrayed by a white performer, felt noticeably uncomfortable to some audience members around me. I caught several exchanged glances in the rows ahead. The production is, of course, portraying another era, and perhaps that discomfort is part of engaging honestly with the material. Still, it was one of the few moments where the distance between 1967 and 2026 felt particularly pronounced.
At interval, my theatre date turned to me and said, "I'm not following the storyline"
I laughed.
"Ah... these types of shows you don't really follow a strict narrative. You just let the experience wash over you" And it did.
Between the glorious vocals, the joyous ensemble and a phenomenal five-piece band that somehow sounded twice its size, I found myself drifting through a dreamy pool of flowers, protest, love and music.
Hair offers escapism, certainly.
But perhaps, like Claude's psychedelic trip, it also reminds us that the distance between their
world and ours is not quite as great as we'd like to think.
‘Hair’ plays at the Sydney Theatre Royal until July 12.
