Think that “Rent” can’t work in a small space like Theatre Out?
Think again. Jonathan Larson’s ever-popular rock musical can be grand, even expansive, when filling a large stage. But in a minuscule venue like Theatre Out, we get a much more intimate look at Larson’s characters, their every emotion writ larger than life.
The 1996 show, a clever updating of Puccini’s “La Bohème,” revolves around a circle of iconoclasts – musicians, filmmakers, dancers, performance artists – in the East Village of New York City who refuse to live by the suffocating conformity surrounding them.
Marcus S. Daniel’s outstanding staging shows that though it’s been a part of pop culture for nearly 20 years, “Rent” is as potent, alive and vibrant as ever. Larson’s music vibrates with soul, depth, heart, and a true empathy for others and whatever pain they may endure. Still, “Rent” leaves no room for gushy sentiment.
Larson’s heart and talent inform every aspect of the show, which follows the changes in the lives of his partly autobiographical characters from Christmas Eve of 1989 to exactly one year later.
As in the Puccini opera, the characters of “Rent” are impoverished both comically and poignantly. The bitter cold of their unheated flat and pressure to pay a year’s worth of rent has had a stifling effect on the creativity of roommates Mark (Ian James), a documentary filmmaker, and Roger (Winston Peacock), a songwriter.
Daniel’s cast has the nerve, the ’tude and the bracing energy to make everything about “Rent” in the moment, immediate and real – often painfully so. His casting enhances the play’s multiple characters and storylines, making this a “Rent” to be savored.
James is a credible Mark, a self-described “nice Jewish boy from Scarsdale” who, much like Larson, harbors doubts about choosing the starving artist existence – and wavers between observing life, through his craft, and actively living it.
Peacock’s all-black attire and somber mien capture Roger’s emotional suffering. His exotic dancer neighbor Mimi (Flynn Hayward), a gorgeous, frail little creature, reminds him of his last girlfriend, who died of AIDS.
While Mimi recklessly throws herself at Roger, he circles Mimi cautiously – at first. The two come together only after they both reveal they’re HIV-positive.
Kevin Carranza solidly delivers the sunny outlook and rational demeanor of college professor Collins, aptly showing how these twin traits can carry him only so far. Joey Nestra’s life-affirming transvestite Angel clearly brings fulfillment to Collins, injecting his life with a much-needed spark.
Among the most clearly defined pairings is the spiky relationship of Erin Ortegon’s Maureen and Natasha Reese’s Joanne, Maureen’s romantic and business partner.
True, Maureen is a dippy, promiscuous airhead who uses her performance art to hilariously, and profanely, slam capitalism. Yet Ortegon also captures Maureen’s wildly spirited creative passion and non-committal romantic nature.
Reese shows the no-nonsense Joanne’s pride and sense of self-worth. Ben Green makes Benny, Mark and Roger’s ex-roommate and now demanding landlord, more likable than the “yuppie scum” he’s described as.
Ably and colorfully filling the show’s raft of supporting roles are Paloma Armijo, Diego Matthew Castro, Juan Castro, Sara Falaro, Joscelyn Lucille Graham, Kat Gutierrez, Brandon Stevens, Kimberlee Stone and Dustin Thompson.
Though “Rent” often seems overstuffed with characters, plot threads and songs, all are well worth having. Music director Benjamin T. Sagan creates wholly memorable scenes from songs like “On the Street,” “Tango: Maureen,” “I Should Tell You,” “Contact,” “Light My Candle,” “Without You,” “Take Me or Leave Me” and the kicky “La Vie Bohème.”
The Act Two opener “Seasons of Love” is a truly great, justly famous song worthy of being singled out, asking how the content of a year is measured and urging us to celebrate friends, loved ones and life itself as precious.
The artwork by painters David C. Carnevale, Tito Ortiz and Jean-Luis Domerego lends the staging a striking visual aspect. Carnevale’s loft set seems too clean for so low-rent a place, something the creativity and detail of his and Joey Baital’s costumes more than outweighs.
All of the cast members deliver potent rock ’n’ roll vocals and invest tons of emotion into their roles and songs. As “Rent” moves into its second act, AIDS casts a grim specter as its ravages descend upon the characters.
That darkness, though, can’t obscure Larson’s urgent message: That we cherish every second of our lives and everyone in them.
Contact the writer: emarchesewriter@gmail.com
