After six million three hundred and seven thousand two hundred minutes, Rent's lease on life will expire in the Big Apple this fall. In the Mini Apple, aka Minneapolis/Saint Paul, it will expire in a few days. Through June 22nd the touring company of the iconic musical will be at the Ordway Center for the Performing Arts before packing up its things and leaving for good...at least until the next national tour. I'm excited to be joined by Emily Stagg who saw the show with me at the Ordway, as we dissect Rent's impact and cultural relevance 12 years later, as well as our thoughts on the traveling cast.
How is the traveling show?
B. In academia, those who can't do, teach. Apparently in entertainment, those who can't do, tour. With the American Idol everyone-can-be-a-star revolution, a symbiotic mutant sucker fish has attached Broadway to Idol and vice versa. The first time I saw Rent? Pre-Idol Constantine Maroulis. This time? Fourth season AI alum Anwar Robinson and South African Idol Heinz Winckler. It's not necessarily that bad, you get some killer voices out of the deal. If there are tickets left, I would say grab some just to hear Heinz Winckler belt through "One Song Glory." On the downside, producers just love to jam notable stars into parts whether they fit or not. Anwar's higher register is fantastic, but since he plays Tom Collins, a part written for a rumbling baritone, it's not like you get to hear it. Also, Winckler's Roger is a bit uninspired.
E. As an American Idol fan (and when I say fan, I mean scary obsessed junkie), I was excited and just a bit apprehensive to see Anwar and Heinz headline one of my favorite musicals. And, in true national tour style, both of them were....fine. As Brandon said, the worst part about Anwar's performance was his beautiful tenor/high baritone squashed into a low bass part. Memo to the casting company: just because this semi-famous man happens to be an African-American with long dreadlocks, he is not necessarily an ideal Collins. Oops. Heinz on the other hand sang like an angel, which was enough to overshadow his somewhat weak attempt at acting. Speaking of Angel, how can she have been overlooked so far in this review? Played by Kristen-Alexzander Griffith, this Angel's singing was occasionally lost in between genders, but her strutting sassy queendom elicited some of the finest and most humorous moments of the show.
B. To me, the real drain
on the show is Dustin Brayley's Mark who is, conservatively speaking,
fucking terrible. During the opening number I was horrified that
we might have stumbled on some horrible amateurish nightmare production.
Was he a replacement? Was he the replacement's replacement?
Was he simply lost? No. In fact, he has the longest theater
bio in the cast. He improved after the opening number, but clearly
lacked the chops to complete with the vastly more talented cast like
Jennifer Colby Talton's fantastically legato Mimi.
E. Brandon, my dear, you exaggerate. Mark was not atrocious--merely mediocre. If he was atrocious, we could have at least laughed at him throughout the show. Instead, we merely shrugged, and occasionally winced when Brayley took five seconds too long to get his cues. Overall, this was a perfectly good version of this classic show, worth seeing (and occasionally wincing at.) Like all other performances of Rent, what makes the musical sparkle with energy and enthusiasm is the audience-the teenage girls who know every damn word and scream when Roger and Mimi are introduced, the parents who are notably uncomfortable at every use of the word "fuck," and all the others who got dragged along without quite knowing what they were getting into (but somehow find themselves enjoying it nonetheless.)
B. Like Emily said, it's not perfect, but it's still the Rent you know and love. Though two new tours are likely to start up next year, grab tickets when you can, because Rent is definitely on the way out.
Why Rent? What is its cultural significance?
B. I would like to propose
an addition to the blog Stuff White People Like. White
people love Rent. Glancing around the Ordway it was impossible
not to notice the word on everyone's lips. I couldn't make it
out, but it was either Ikea or lutefisk. Why then is Rent so popular?
After all, it's impossibly complicated, and preaches a pretty selfish
way of life. It's not as if we identify with the characters--we're
not Roger or Mimi, Mark, or Maureen. Let's be honest, to shell out the
$80 for tickets, we're all Benjamin Coffin III. Then again, it's
great music, and it actually has something to say. In an industry
where Young Frankenstein: the Musical is like saying "Young
Frankenstein: You See, They Sing on Stage, Which Makes it Funny," Rent
does a great job of differentiating itself.
E. It was really remarkable.
On the way out after the show, I turned the corner to leave the auditorium
and was momentarily stunned by a sea of texting cell phones whipped
out by 16-year-old high school suburbanites. What exactly is it that
makes this particular audience (my suburban self included) connect with
Rent's very urban portrayal of drug use, depression, illness, and death?
Maybe it just so happens that the answer is in the question. Whether
we are from the city itself, or from Eagan, or from Scarsdale, NY (Mark's
hometown in the show), our lives intersect with sadness. We may not choose
to live like the characters in Rent, but we experience similar emotions,
and the show carries itself in its emotions. When Angel dances, we feel
his joy. When Maureen gives her protest performance, we moo right along
with her, timidly at first, and then unabashedly enthusiastic. When
Collins speaks at the memorial service, I can say that even in my fourth
performance of Rent, I cried. As complex as the show may be (and I think
on some level, you're right about that, Brandon), I think it is the
simplicity and the rawness of its emotions that fills up a 1900-seat
auditorium on a Tuesday night 12 full years after it was born.
B. Is it still relevant? I would say yes and no. We don't have an AIDS cure, but it's a manageable illness now in the US. I think today it's easy to brush Rent off as "that musical where everyone has AIDS," because its not a part of our common experience the way it is in Africa, nor is it as terrifying as it was at the end of the '80s. There is a real irony having Heinz Winckler here in the states since that issue would probably resonate more in his home country. I think Rent has been—and still is—extraordinarily important for helping push GLBT issues into the mainstream. And honestly, I think it's pretty impressive to inspire shrieking 16 year olds 12 years later. Ultimately, Emily and I came to the following conclusion:
We might not live like the characters in Rent do, but in the end, Rent is a celebration of life the way we wish we could live it.