I love it when inspired direction and great acting allow me to rediscover an old favorite. Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet is the latest case in point. Everybody’s favorite love story is usually played strictly for tragedy; the wordplay, humor and bawdiness of the first act de-emphasized.

But director David Ellenstein, without losing sight of the tragic portents, highlights these comic aspects, allowing me (and you) to see this old classic anew, in a sparkling production at North Coast Repertory Theatre.

It helps, of course, that he’s cast Richard Baird as Romeo’s quick-witted friend Mercutio, Tom Zohar as servants Peter and Balthasar, and Lynne Griffin as Juliet’s nurse, scene stealers all. The Bard gave them the words, Ellenstein the permission to play the scenes with a gusto not often seen.

Baird, whose magnetism can be relied upon to make it seem he’s the only actor on the stage, here demonstrates he can also play well with others. Zohar is both a charmer and a master at mugging. And Griffin, whose Nurse gets many of the overtly sexual lines, takes advantage of every one of them. Be prepared, as well, for a bit more groping than usually seen.

The production is not perfect. Let’s get the minor quibbles out of the way. The set – a grade school-level backdrop of Verona’s main piazza – is not up to Marty Burnett’s usual standard. My guess is that the production budget was gobbled up in costumes, and set design got short shrift.

But never mind. The play’s the thing, and in this case the acting’s the thing that will have you cheering this production. Rhianna Basore’s Juliet is splendid – luminous, giddy, radiant and excitable as only a 14-year-old girl can be.

Brennan Taylor’s fickle Romeo, lovesick for Rosalind at the beginning, forgets poor Rosalind entirely after one glimpse of Juliet at a party. We can argue whether this is evidence of the inconstancy of youth (or of males), or of real love. No matter, Taylor convinces throughout.

The rest of the cast is equally strong – Robin Christ and Robert May as the senior Capulets; Lynne Griffin and Ed Hollingsworth as the elder Montagues; Jeremiah Lorenz as the hothead Tybalt; Matthew Weedon as Benvolio and Friar John; Dónal Pugh as Friar Laurence and Gregory – there isn’t a weak link in the chain.

Romeo and Juliet is North Coast Rep’s first production of a Shakespeare play. Let’s hope there will be more on the level of this memorable Romeo and Juliet.

Romeo and Juliet plays through Oct. 2 at North Coast Repertory Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Wednesday and Sunday at 7:00 p.m.; matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (858) 481-1055 or visit www.northcoastrep.org.

“When the moon is in the second house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, then peace will guide the planet and love will steer the stars.”

- “Aquarius,” from the musical Hair

I guess the moon isn’t in the right place yet, because nearly 40 years after Hair was written, we’re in another “dirty little war” and there’s scant evidence that love is steering the stars or anything else down here where we are.

But Hair is back, that “American tribal love-rock musical” from 1968 that shocked the nation with full-frontal nudity and disrespect for the U.S. flag in full view right there on the stage.

Hair, written by Gerome Ragni and James Rado with music by Galt MacDermot, was part of the anti-Vietnam War movement. Fritz Theatre artistic director Duane Daniels sees political parallels with today. “Hair had to happen in 1968,” he says in the program notes, “and it has to happen now.” It may be old news to hear Hud say, “War is white people sending black people to make war on yellow people who stole the land from red people,” but it’s just as effective as it ever was.

But even more important than the political commentary (pretty tame by today’s standards) is its depiction of an era and the hippie counterculture that characterized it, and an anti-establishment attitude that seems on the verge of reasserting itself.

Hair doesn’t really have a plot (the character Claude receives a draft notice: that’s basically it), but it does sport a better and more varied compilation of songs than most musicals. Everybody remembers “Aquarius” and “Good Morning, Starshine,” which got all the play back in the ’60s, probably because they are bouncy and non-threatening.

But there are many better songs, including “Air” (which, with lines like, “Welcome! sulphur dioxide/Hello! carbon monoxide/The air, the air/Is everywhere” could have come from satirist Tom Lehrer); “Frank Mills,” the teeny-bopper’s lament (“I met a boy called Frank Mills/On September 12th, right here/In front of the Waverly/But unfortunately/I lost his address”); “My Conviction,” a musical anthropological treatise; the surrealistic anti-war song “Three-Five-Zero-Zero” (which might refer to the number of troops who first landed in Vietnam in 1965 designated as combat troops); and “What a Piece of Work is Man” (yep, the one from the Bard, set to music).

Daniels has found a splendid cast for this energetic affair, choreographed by Daniels and cast member Chrissy Burns, who also plays Sheila and gets to sing the pop lament, “Easy to Be Hard.”

Joel Rieke’s Claude (that would be Claude Hooper Bukowski) is terrific: a gorgeous body (and we get to see lots of it) along with a voice that can hit those high falsetto notes with no apparent distress.

Ruben Mier’s George Berger (who gets tossed out of high school, making him draft bait as well) is also excellent, as are the rest of the cast. Trevor Peringer deserves special mention; his satiric portrayal of Margaret Meade, singing about the anthropological implications of long hair, is a serious hoot.

Hair, with its political implications and lack of plot, probably wouldn’t find backers today. But it can still do two things most current musicals can’t: entertain and make us think. And even if that weren’t true, it’s important as a social document.

Fritz Theatre’s production of Hair plays through Sept. 28 at the San Diego Repertory Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Sunday at 3:00 and 7:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 544-1000 or visit www.fritztheatre.com.