Rent

I've seen Jonathan Larson's landmark musical Rent many times since it first opened, Off-Broadway, at the New York Theatre Workshop in 1996. I followed its success on Broadway.  I went to the recording session for the original cast album. And I caught the national tour as well. The show—-a contemporary twist on La Boheme, set in the East Village—earned Tony Awards for best book, best score, and best musical, as well as a Pulitzer Prize for best drama.  Rent has enough inherent strengths—including gorgeous, soaring melodies, an inspiring, open-hearted storyline, and an eternal youthfulness of spirit—so that any halfway decent production will offer rewards. And the young cast performing the show at the Westchester Broadway dinner theater has a good general feel for the material. There are pleasures to be found in this production, and I'm glad I saw it.

But if measured against, say, the original New York stage production, or the recent national tour, this production falls far short of realizing its potential. It should be edgier, more passionate, with greater emotional highs and lows. I'm disappointed that director Patricia Wilcox—entrusted with such a terrific, time-tested script and score—hasn't been able to make this production fully take off. I'm going to list problems I had with this production. It's still worth seeing, despite flaws, but Rent deserves better treatment.

For starters, too many lines of dialogue and lyrics are being lost. A number of the actors need to articulate more clearly, proclaim lines more deliberately. And, sometimes, actors, who are now moving while speaking lines, need to simply stop and speak. I know the show by heart, and I am sure there were many audience members who are familiar with the material from recordings and from the film. But not all audience members arrive at the theater knowing Rent. One older couple sitting near me, who told me they regularly attend shows at Westchester Broadway but knew little about Rent, remarked afterwards that the story was sometimes hard for them to follow, and they couldn't catch all of the lines. There's no excuse for losing so many lines. (I saw the last national tour in the cavernous New Jersey Performing Arts Center and still was able to catch every word.)  Some of the numbers—like the marvelous Act One closer "La Vie Boheme"—would have paid off better if everyone in the audience had been able to understand all of the lyrics, but the words were too often a muddy blur.

The key characters of Mark Cohen (played by Andy Kelso) and Roger Davis (played by Mark Ayesh) would also have more authority (which is needed) if they spoke more deliberately. Every line has to land. The actors understood their characters, and they're likeable, but too often they spoke with a throwaway casualness that may be true to everyday life, but is not ideal for the stage. Their impact was lessened.

I had no problems with the performance of Angelo Rios as Tom Collins; that's not the biggest role in the show, but he carried off the role perfectly, spoke and sang with strength and clarity, and wound up registering the most vividly of any character on the stage.  He had more presence in this production than the others.  And Tonya Thompson, portraying a bag lady and others, made every moment count.

The production was generally well sung (particularly "Seasons of Love," both the ensemble sections and solo parts).  But on some numbers, including "La Vie Boheme," I wanted more energy; and I also wanted some of the more impassioned numbers to build to greater musical and emotional crescendos. There were moments when the show seemed to be gently simmering, when it needed to be brought to a full boil. I missed that go-for-broke intensity that original cast member Adam Pascal always seemed to bring to key moments. The show works best if the performers give their absolute all on the big numbers.

And, finally, this show requires more physical contact—more expressions of closeness, desire for connections and affection—than I saw on stage. Director Michael Grief wisely had Roger and Mimi touching each other far more often in the original New York production than Patricia Wilcox has them touching here. Too often, Wilcox positions the actors apart from each other.  And in a show that is, fundamentally, about the triumph of love despite obstacles, showing that close physical contact is essential.

(Pictured: Angelo Rios and Justis; Photo by John Vechiolla)

Chip Deffaa
Cabaret Scenes
September 10, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org