Walking into the Capitol Theatre in Windsor feels like stepping into a time capsule that hasn't quite decided which decade it wants to inhabit. There is a specific scent to the place—a mix of floor wax, old velvet and the lingering anxiety of a hundred opening nights. It is the perfect setting for Arts Collective Theatre (ACT) to revive *Hair*, a show that, even 50 years after its Broadway debut, still manages to make audiences shift uncomfortably in their seats.
The production runs from Sept. 6 to 16. It arrives at a moment when the world feels particularly loud. And while the show is famous for its "Tribal Love-Rock" sensibilities, the conversation always gravitates toward the skin. Specifically, the infamous nude scene that closed the first act in 1968 and sent shockwaves through a much more conservative theatrical establishment.
But nudity in 2018 is different. We are saturated with it. Yet, in a live theatre setting, the act of baring it all remains a radical gesture of vulnerability. Chris Rabideau, the artistic director behind this mounting, understands that you cannot force liberation. You have to invite it.
“In one of the first conversations I had with the cast, I asked them ‘What does liberation mean to you?’” says artistic director, Chris Rabideau. “I wanted the cast to be free to feel that liberation and to show that liberation. It was written in the play because after a rehearsal during the making of the show, they went outside, and there were people in a park who were all nude laughing and listening to music, without any care or shame. The cast felt the show was missing this kind of liberation. I gave our cast that same freedom to take off as much or as little as they were comfortable with. It is completely up to them.”
This isn't just about titillation or some cheap marketing ploy to sell tickets to the bored masses. It is a historical callback. The original creators, Gerome Ragni and James Rado, saw something in that park that felt more honest than anything happening on a stage. They saw a lack of shame.
Rabideau is handing that same autonomy to his young performers. It is a risky move in a community like Windsor-Essex, where conservative roots often tangle with progressive aspirations. But that is the point of ACT. They are not here to play it safe or provide a comfortable evening of musical theatre fluff.
The show itself is a sprawling, often chaotic look at the "tribe." These are the long-haired hippies of the Age of Aquarius, living a bohemian existence in New York City while the shadow of the Vietnam War looms over every high. They are fighting against conscription, against the "man" and against a society that demands they cut their hair and march into a jungle to die.
But if you think this is just a period piece about the 60s, you are missing the forest for the trees. The themes of political activism and resistance are not relics of the past. They are the daily bread of our current social discourse.
We once again find ourselves in a cultural shift. With movements like #METOO, LGBTQ fights for equality and Black Lives Matter (to name a few), this show fits into our present political landscape. Hair’s relevance is within its call for action and it’s need for social change which mimics what’s happening in our world today.
Rabideau selected *Hair* for the 2018 season because the parallels are impossible to ignore. It is part of a deliberate effort by ACT to break through cultural, racial and sexual boundaries that still exist in Southwestern Ontario. We like to think we have moved past the struggles of 1968, but the headlines suggest otherwise.
“We once again find ourselves in a cultural shift,” he points out. “With movements like #METOO, LGBTQ fights for equality and Black Lives Matter (to name a few), this show fits into our present political landscape. Hair’s relevance is within its call for action and it’s need for social change which mimics what’s happening in our world today.”
The #METOO movement, in particular, changes the way we view a show like *Hair*. It forces the production to grapple with consent and the power dynamics of the "free love" era. It is no longer enough to just be "free." You have to be conscious.
The cast for this production is unique. It was built through a seven-week intensive called 30 Under 30. This is a summer program designed to gather youth between the ages of 18 and 30 to sharpen their theatre skills under the wing of local mentors. It is a pressure cooker of talent.
Watching these performers, most of whom were born decades after the Vietnam War ended, try to channel the specific brand of 60s disillusionment is fascinating. There is a raw energy there that you don't get with older, more "polished" professional casts. They are hungry. They are messy. And they are deeply invested in the message.
The 30 Under 30 program is dedicated to celebrating the artistic talent of Windsor-Essex. It provides a platform for these young artists to produce a full-scale show at the Capitol, which is no small feat. The technical demands of *Hair*—the lighting, the sound, the choreography—require a level of precision that these performers are learning in real-time.
And let’s talk about the music. Galt MacDermot’s score is a beast. It requires a certain vocal grit to pull off "Aquarius" or "Let the Sunshine In" without sounding like a high school choir. The ACT cast manages to find that grit, likely because they are living in a world that feels just as uncertain as the one faced by the original tribe.
But there is a critique to be made. Sometimes, the enthusiasm of a youth production can overshadow the darker, more cynical undertones of the script. *Hair* is not just a party; it is a tragedy. Claude’s struggle with the draft is a life-or-death conflict that needs to weigh heavily on the room.
The Capitol Theatre provides the perfect backdrop for this weight. The acoustics in the room are sharp, allowing the rock band to fill the space without drowning out the lyrics. Sitting in the third row, you can see the sweat on the actors' brows. You can see the hesitation—or the lack thereof—during the more provocative moments.
Tickets for the production start at $30, which is a steal for the level of production value ACT is bringing to the stage. It is an investment in the local arts scene and a chance to see how the next generation of Windsor performers handles a classic.
The show hits the stage on Sept. 7, 8, 9, 14, 15 and 16. If you are looking for a polite evening of theatre where everyone stays in their lane and the status quo is preserved, stay home. This version of *Hair* is designed to provoke.
Whether or not the actors choose to bare it all is, as Rabideau says, completely up to them. But the liberation the show seeks isn't just about taking off clothes. It is about taking off the masks we wear to fit into a society that is often at odds with our true selves.
And in 2018, that is a message worth hearing again. Even if it comes with a bit of a shock to the system. The "Age of Aquarius" might have been 50 years ago, but the sun is still trying to shine in.
Don't miss the chance to see this tribe find their voice. It is loud, it is colourful and it is exactly what the Capitol Theatre needs right now. Grab a ticket, find your seat and prepare for a shift in perspective.
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