I rewatched Hair recently, and Treat Williams is such a life-giving, unstoppable force… I Got Life, indeed. That last shot of Berger (Treat) marching onto the military plane, with fear and confusion, his identity cropped to a crewcut – it breaks my heart every time.
Treat Williams as Berger, to us, teenage boys from behind the Iron Curtain, epitomised what we couldn’t get: freedom of self-expression. In my country, Hair was released right before the Martial Law of 1981. I saw it during the first months of the army rule. I let my hair grow wild and ripped off the sleeves off my denim jacket immediately. My punk friends respected the choice, but the military medical board objected. At the physical examination, as prescribed by Hair, I stripped naked except for the socks. Even though my toenails weren’t painted, the doctors recommended psychological consultation. I won a deferral from service. I truly hope Treat Williams was aware of the enormous impact of the film – and the character he crafted so beautifully – on a country he’s never visited.
It remains somewhat of a puzzle to me why Treat Williams didn’t become a massive star. He spoofed his Hair persona wonderfully the same year in Spielberg’s irreverently mad 1941, playing an angry, mean Corporal Sitarski. But his first starring role arrived with Prince of the City (1981). I believe this film to be the best police corruption drama ever made, and certainly the best acted. Sidney Lumet explored this milieu before, notably in Serpico (1973). But here he really pulled all the stops. Williams was cast because Lumet resisted a major star – he didn’t want anybody with an established screen personality. He just wanted a master actor.
As the narcotics detective turned Internal Affairs informer, Danny Ciello, Williams holds the film in high gear for nearly 3 hours. A part like this is an actor’s dream, and Treat goes through every conceivable emotion like a spring-loaded projectile – and not a single false note throughout the proceedings. Which doesn’t mean dynamic action, necessarily. It’s edge-of-your-seat tension, plenty of it internal, such as the heart-stopping wire-wearing sequence. By the time the film is over, you feel like you’ve been there with Treat, sweating bullets right next to him. With Prince of the City, the actor, who had just turned 30, proved himself to match Pacino, De Niro, and (almost) Hackman.
Unfortunately, the ‘80s cinema was going in a different direction, and fast. It is truly shameful that Williams didn’t get many roles of this calibre down the line. Terrific performer, a triple-threat, with palpable energy and charisma to spare. For many of my countrymen, an icon. Terrible loss.
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