December 9, 2021
Touring 25th Anniversary 'Rent' Is About as Good as This Flawed Musical Gets
Adam Brinklow READ TIME: 3 MIN.
Let's be clear: The 25th anniversary "farewell tour" of "RENT," which just opened at the Orpheum Theater in San Francisco and plays again in San Jose in the spring, is probably the best "RENT" you're going to get for your buck.
This is not to say that it is a spotless production. More just that major criticisms of the show at this point are probably just that: Criticisms of the show itself, which has settled into a very peculiar place in American popular culture since it took Broadway by storm in the '90s.
If you weren't around for that decade it might be hard to believe just how big "RENT" was, winning not only several Tonys but also a Pulitzer Prize (yes), and ensnaring an entire generation of theater kids with its soundtrack and hazy promises about offbeat counterculture life.
The late Jonathon Larson's book and music chronicle a year in the life of eight New York City artists and intellectuals, most of them queer and/or people of color, and half of them living with the specter of AIDS.
There is technically a plot to "RENT": Relationships begin and end, characters move away and back, everyone is briefly evicted, etc. But this is all so far afield of the point of the show that much of the action takes place in offstage gaps that are surprisingly easy to lose track of, assuming anybody really cares.
Rather, "RENT" has always been a showcase of relatable emotional chaos in rock opera form: Songs, scenes, and characters crash into each other, dialogue flies every which way between and during musical numbers, and Larson's music threatens to reel out of control at times. Matthew E. Maraffi's set for this final tour reproduces the layered visual chaos of past productions, and the costumes vary from retro to timelessly weird.
While the screaming rock ensemble numbers are fun, as is often the case with these shows, it's the more light and somber moments that hit hardest, like "I'll Cover You," the sincere love ballad between Angel and Collins (Javon King and Shafig Hicks respectively, both powerfully sure of themselves throughout the show).
Not everyone in the cast makes it out okay: Coleman Cumming looks frankly ridiculous as a kind of mallrat punk rocker version of Roger, the show's melancholic rockstar lead. But, of course, Roger has always been a terrible role, no matter what anyone tells you, so he's hardly the first to be laid low by it.
By rights "RENT" should be having a kind of golden age right now, as its themes of tragedy, resilience, police violence, poverty, and found family are arguably even more topical now than they were 25 years ago.
And, of course, seemingly everything popular in the '90s is coming back into its own again in our current, backwards-looking zeitgeist. Truthfully, though, much of the current conversation around "RENT" fixates on the datedness of its ideas about art and justice, and on the fact that decades of imitation and parody have undermined, rather than burnished, its reputation.
"RENT" talks a lot about issues like homelessness, HIV, queer identities and drug use, and housing insecurity. But none of the characters really say much profound, and our ostensible white guy lead characters Mark and Roger are mostly extraneous, despite how much time the show lingers on them.
All of those criticisms are true now as much as they've ever been, although frankly, asking this slightly immature, technically unfinished '90s musical that nobody ever imagined would be a hit to resolve all of those tensions was probably never realistic.
One thing we can perhaps appreciate more about this show today and that director Evan Ensign's anniversary production highlights ably is that "RENT" was never a show about cynicism or sarcasm of other supposed Gen X mainstays, but rather about vulnerability and human need. And that, at least, is a theme whose time has truly come in modern media.
"RENT" plays at the Orpheum at 1192 Market Street in San Francisco through December 12. For tickets and information, visit BroadwaySF.com or call (888) 746-1799.