Gerome Ragni, James Rado, and Galt Macdermot’s HAIR came to New York during the experimental theatre movement, so don’t be surprised by its structure, language, and feel. It was a time when theater producers found new methods to communicate with an audience. HAIR – like its contemporaries – has delved heavily into improvisations, audience participation, and even unorthodox rites to break barriers in contemporary theater. And boy, how it thrived!

Amidst its chaos and psychedelic randomness, there’s something extraordinary in HAIR. Initially produced in an era when the US government was sending troops halfway around the world to kill and die for strangers, this revolutionary musical satirized, in its way, the ridiculousness of it all. In their little way, Ragni, Rado, and MacDermot brought to the Broadway stage an unlikely musical that forced its audience to ask more critical questions about life, freedom, and choices.

Repertory Philippines chooses this tribal love-rock musical as its season-ender for its 50th season, and it is just brilliant. Having seen several recent Rep shows in recent years, one can say that this one crosses the common border of conventionality and bravely puts on the eccentric hat that matches this generation’s atypical stance.

It is the late 60s, and just recently, the earth’s moon has aligned with four other planets in the constellation Aquarius. These heavenly bodies haven’t been in the same position in the last 2,500 years. Some say this is the beginning of a new age of creativity, idealism, and freedom.

The AquariYas Tribe, a group of politically aware long-haired hippies, gathers in New York to fight and sing against Nixon’s war in Vietnam. Claude, the tribe’s leader, his friend Berger, and their roommate Sheila all find a reason for their existence and try to keep balance amidst the growing resistance to social standards and conformity. Over the long haul, Claude must face his choices to either submit to his parents’ wishes that he fight in Vietnam or continue his work as an underground activist.

With Director Chris Millado at the helm, Repertory Philippines’ production of HAIR didn’t miss the point. Millado carefully directs his ensemble with unmistakable vision, sprinkling the endless chaos on stage with Macdermot’s underlying imageries and blatant satires.

John Batalla’s lighting design synchronizes the magic in the hippie world of the AquariYas Tribe. Batalla illuminates the Greenbelt Onstage platform with unlimited colors, expanding the characters’ euphoric universe with the spell of brilliance and sunshine. Like in its original 1967 production, Joey Mendoza’s set rejected the conventional theater design with its center relatively bare but not neglected of color and breathable space.

Ejay Yatco’s orchestration soon becomes one of the show’s additional characters. Yatco’s arrangement and sound add to the brilliance of the musical’s peculiar lyricism.

PJ Rebullida, who amazed audiences with choreography for works like NEWSIES, constructs a skeletal series of movements that doesn’t feel choreographed. With lyrics that do not rhyme and music that jumps beyond conventionalities, he challenged himself to create campaigns for the sound and feel of an authentic rock & roll musical. Like its unconfined narrative, Rebullida allows the ensemble to develop their movements, expanding the experience through an explosion of a social epoch.

George Shulze’s Berger surprises the audiences with his electric portrayal as Claude’s eccentric buddy. Caisa Borromeo, as Sheila, is a sight to see – swinging from Berger to Claude and back again, depicting a peculiar exhibition of both love and companionship.

And we have Markki Stroem as Claude, who commands his crowd of psychedelic liberalists with a presence only a strong-willed hippie could muster. Stroem is the most robust and vital sentimescenes, bringing justice to Madermot’s characterizations of a young man torn between his early choices. However, Stroem lags in the more upbeat sequences, somewhat missing the point of this era's hippie groove and authenticity. Understand that the epoch’s concept of ethereal consciousness springs from the idea of feeling good rather than just looking good.

Yet, the ensemble compensates for this want, giving quick access to an era of minorities who preferred to be called “freaks” rather than “hippies.” Millado presents an array of composites for “Krishna followers” and “Jesus freaks” communing to give a weird yet colorful spectrum of individualists and naturalists. Worthy of mentioning is Naths Everett as Dion, Cara Barredo as Crissy, Alfritz Blanch as Hud, and Maronne Cruz as Jeanie, who manage to project this unique groove of the 60s, making them stand out in this sub-culture crowd.

In the heart of HAIR’s expletives, orgies, and drug-crazed fanfare is a reasonably relevant satire on societal standards, more so on organized religion. We see Claude as the Christ who enters Act 1 saying, “I am the Son of God. I shall vanish and will soon be forgotten!” We see him as a blessing (anointing?) to the members of the tribe, dressed in white and with hair that can likewise be comparable to that of the stereotypical Christ. This makes Sheila and Berger Mary Magdalene and John the Baptist, respectively.

Here, we see how the piece examines its significant disconnect from why we have religions in the first place. Doctrines soon became our religions' primary focus, diminishing the true meaning of God and Jesus’ scriptures.

Also, Claude’s decision to oblige to his parents’ wish for him to fight in Vietnam brings to the table yet another opportunity for discourse. As Claude sees this choice as a milestone to move from the freedom-loving life to the real world, he soon becomes a victim of his fate. Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet, he also sees the need for change but lacks the courage to execute it. Though intelligent, witty, and critical, he hesitates with essential decisions like most of us.

A regular viewer may see HAIR as a peculiar junkie musical needing a narrative makeover. But if you look closely and open your mind, you’ll see how beautiful its core is. This piece dares to question everything else that we find normal. It is in-your-face and demands that we raise our questions. It calls on us to acknowledge love, acceptance, and freedom as our ultimate goals; to “let the sunshine in.”

If this is not what Art is supposed to do, I don’t know what is.