Nickell’s Bag

This is not the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. That idealistic glimmer faded from the horizon decades ago now, obscured by the gray clouds of reality in a culture not quite ready for full-fledged revolution. The starry-eyed 20-year-old of 1968 is today’s graying 62-year-old, peering at her first Social Security check through bifocal lenses.

Maybe she was the same woman sitting behind me last Sunday, the one complaining at intermission about the chilly air conditioning inside the Whitefish Performing Arts Center at a matinee performance of that most starry-eyed period piece of the hippie heyday, “Hair.”

If so, she was also the same woman whom I could hear sniffling back tears at the emotional ending of Alpine Theatre Project’s dazzling production. If the point of live theatre is to transport the audience to another time and place, this “Hair” does so with an exclamation point.

Indeed, throughout much of the first act, one could argue that this was “Hair” teased out to its frizzy ends – and then augmented with a few extensions for good measure. Frenetic, kaleidoscopic, and very loud, the production kicked off at the pace of a speed-freak, where it remained until the lights blacked out on the jarring, act-ending tableau of the entire cast, sans the entire wardrobe.

Even cranked up to eleven, that first act hardly lacked for highlights. Many of composer Galt MacDermot’s best-known tunes are found there, starting right out of the gate with the soaring anthem, “Aquarius,” here belted out by Wendy Lynette Fox, a sultry siren who somehow managed to sing over both the band and her frenzied “tribe.”

Then came a breathless race through “Donna,” a twice-baked “Hashish,” a comically sleezy “Sodomy” – and on and on, with the ethnically diverse and consistently strong cast tag-teaming from tune to tune. Ann Sanders, as the pregnant Jeanie, gave an exquisitely squeaky, campy take on the pollution satire, “Air,” punctuated by bursts of smoke from aerosol cans wielded by the rest of the cast. And Luke Walrath, in the drag role of the tourist Margaret Mead, elicited wave after wave of laughter from the audience in his falsetto turn through “My Conviction.”

Such a relentlessly rocking rollick would be hard enough to resist even at arm’s length; but ATP’s production, designed by Robin Vest and directed by ATP artistic director Betsi Morrison, sits right in your lap and strokes your hair.

The Zodiac-inspired circular platform where most of the production numbers take place both thrusts into and tilts toward the audience. The large casts spends much of its time out in the auditorium, passing out flowers and fliers to the audience and, of course, singing and dancing. And watch out for flying pillows.

At the center of it all stands Claude, the nominal leader of the tribe and – on paper, at least – its most magnetic member (“I am lost in the unfathomable infinities of your mystical third eye,” Jeanie swoons at his feet. “I wish it was your baby inside my body.”).

Early on, actor Eric Michael Krop didn’t quite live up to all that hype, particularly amidst ATP’s high-energy horde of hotties. Bedecked in an unfortunate wig that made him look more like Garth from “Wayne’s World” than a free-spirited Adonis, he sang the musical’s title song with a warmth verging on reserve.

But then came the second act, and the musical’s late-emerging storyline of Claude’s impending conscription into the Army. Despite (or perhaps because of) all the preceding dazzle, Sunday’s performance came into its sharpest focus when the whole cast smoked pot and dissipated into Claude’s hazy hallucination.

From there, the action literally took flight, with actors floating magically through the air. More importantly, the pace slowed down, allowing the spotlight to focus on Claude’s inner crisis and ultimate tragedy. Krop’s final reprise of Claude’s “Ain’t Got No” provided the most emotionally nuanced moment of the day and led to a powerful finale, with the cast solemnly marching out the exits, fervently begging the heavens to “Let the Sunshine In.”

Of course, the sunshine was there the whole time, baking the exterior of the WhitefishPerforming Arts Center. This is still the Age of Aquarius; whether we ever live up to the revolutionary optimism of Claude’s hirsute tribe, Alpine Theatre Project’s “Hair” does a fine job of reminding us that hope, set to a rocking backbeat, never goes out of fashion.

Alpine Theatre Project’s production of the musical “Hair” continues Tuesdays through Sundays until July 31 at the Whitefish Performing Arts Center in Whitefish. The production features adult language, sexual innuendo, nudity, and strobe lighting. Call (406) 862-SHOW for tickets and information, or visit www.alpinetheatreproject.org.

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