A misfit group of politically active countercultural “youths” roam their city. With placards in hand, they protest against urgent issues, like war and pollution. They champion peace, free love, and radical self-expression. When they aren’t fighting conformity, the interpersonal dramas of their non-monogamous situationships also keeps them busy – and a little hedonism by way of sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll takes the edge off. 

It sounds like a story that could be playing out on the streets of Melbourne today. But in fact, this is the outline of Hair, the American “tribal love-rock musical” that broke new ground with its Broadway debut in 1968. More preoccupied with “themes” than a strict plot, Hair is the story of a “tribe” of long-haired hippies living a bohemian life in New York City and fighting against conscription into the Vietnam War (something that was still actively happening).

The Australian debut in 1969 was a smash-hit – it launched the careers of some of our biggest stars and courted controversy for its profanity, depictions of illicit drug use, nudity, and (gasp!) its racially integrated cast. 

So, how does the show credited with “changing Australian theatre forever” hold up in 2025? Well, if we’re talking about the production that just opened at Melbourne’s Athenaeum Theatre, the answer is… not all that well. 

Hair (Athenaeum Theatre, Melbourne). Photo © Ben Fon

Interestingly, much of the social commentary in Hair actually resonates now – echoing the big issues, attitudes, and political spitfires of today. (Albeit, something written now would probably take a little more care in how it handles race – especially when it comes to a particular moment of borderline-brownface during a wacky acid trip sequence.) This production could have seized an opportunity to meaningfully grapple with the material, to make it feel fresh, exciting, and urgent. Instead, it falls short of truly letting the sunshine in.

The show’s pacing is overall uneven, leaping jaggedly between musical numbers. With some fun choreography and formations, the hard-working ensemble are given a lot to do, but they don’t have much to truly sink their teeth into. These characters are painted as little more than corny outlines of outdated stereotypes, walking an unclear line between parody and sincerity. Some performers stand out more than others. Notably, Maverick Newman makes an absolute meal out of any and every character he oscillates between (which will surprise no one who’s seen him in the Hayes Theatre Co’s smash-hit, Murder for Two) and this includes a super camp cross-dressing moment, which could be so easily mishandled without the right tact.

The staging is at once bare bones and also very busy – featuring industrial scaffolding that perhaps gestures at a contrast between the steeliness of New York City and the bohemian fashions of the rag-tag gang of hippies at the center of the action. 

There’s a procession of uninspiring video art projections which, uncomfortably, look a lot like AI-generated content. There’s a bit of a karaoke vibe, which isn’t helped by the fact that most of the songs begin with the leading singer being passed a hand-held microphone. (Microphones which don’t always work as they should, compounding the poor sound balancing, which had a tendency to knock the wind out of some of the show’s most zeitgeisty songs on opening night.)

Hair (Athenaeum Theatre, Melbourne). Photo © Ben Fon

If you’re looking for a show to convert someone into a musical theatre fan, this isn’t it. If you’ve been drawn in by the famously provocative “nude scene”, you might find that a little tame, too. And if you’re after a show that will sell you on hippies, this probably won’t do that either – which is a shame, and not only because bell-bottoms are overdue their comeuppance as the superior jean style. 

Hippies are often written off as “cringe”. But, who among us hasn’t dabbled in a sub-culture in the pursuit of belonging and happiness? Who among us hasn’t seen the appeal of getting swept up in a scene with a hunky bad-boy at its centre? Or been stuck in a conversation with someone preaching the gospel of organic vegetables? And tell me, who among us hasn’t had a run-in with an intimidating person who preaches social justice, yet acts with blatant disrespect for the people around them?

Hair shows us that while the world and its issues might be new to us, no generation is exactly reinventing the wheel. This production had the chance to inspire unity between the comfortably middle-class Baby Boomers who used to blast Jimi Hendrix and hot-box their Kombi vans, and the folks fighting for land rights and trans healthcare today. But cashing in on nostalgia doesn’t mean the same thing as engaging with its nuances.

The Age of Aquarius? More like the age of meh-quarius. 

Hair plays at the Athenaeum Theatre, Melbourne until 22 November.