by Pat Craig
Timeout
August 26, 1999

YOU READ IT on almost every face -- surprise and maybe a little frustration that there are lots of other people here, snaking up from the lobby of the Golden Gate Theatre to the stage door, waiting for a chance to drop their cards in the fishbowl for this evening's $20 ticket drawing.

Most people give you the impression they are astounded so many others are in on the secret and are interested in spending a late afternoon lined up for a slim shot at scoring a pair of up-front seats to "Rent."

But the fact is, it's never a slam-dunk to get tickets; rarely have there been fewer than 50 in line for the 32 lottery seats and usually, there's about 150 in line. Those seats are worth having because they guarantee you'll be in the first two rows of the theater. And now, the quest has become even more compelling.

"After you've seen it from the first two rows, you don't want to pay more for seats that aren't as good," says Kellie Chouinard, who moved from Walnut Creek to San Francisco two weeks ago. "Of course, I do want to see it again, so maybe I will pay. I thought I'd have all this time, but now, it's closing so soon."

There is an urgency in the line and has been for the past several weeks, ever since "Rent's" producers announced a Sept. 5 close date for the Pulitzer Prize-winning musical. And, for a variety of reasons, the closing is hitting the show's die-hard fans harder than it has traditional theatergoers.

To understand why the musical is closing, you simply have to look toward the rear of the house from the coveted $20 seats. Almost any night, you'll see a fair amount of empty velvet staring back at you. And with that many open seats, it's not hard to understand why the show has to close (even during the final months of its record five-year San Francisco run, "Phantom of the Opera," was nearly sold out every night).

On the other hand, there has never been anything quite like "Rent." It is a retelling of the Puccini opera "La Boheme," about contemporary young artists struggling to survive in New York City. At its heart, it is a love story and a coming-of-age tale, but it is also a play set deeply in contemporary America. The young artists find themselves dealing with the specter of AIDS and the haunting notion that love and death can be synonymous. It is a rock opera that is loud and street smart and has found its way into the psyche of many of the Rentheads, who have seen the show numerous times, and see the lottery tickets as part of the ritual.

There is certainly more connection in the front row seats -- cast members play to the lottery seats, where many of those become so engaged in the action, they weep along with the cast. For many, it is a first theatrical experience and a first exposure to the intimate magic of the stage.

"I haven't really been one to go to a lot of plays, but my friend kind of like got me into it and now I'm totally infatuated with the stage," says Chouinard, who has won lottery tickets four times in 11 tries. "I had to try like five times before I got the tickets. I haven't seen it anywhere else but the first two rows, but I have a friend who saw it from the balcony, and she said it was a completely different show."

Most of those who play the ticket lottery end up buying tickets if they don't win, says David Cushing, the theater's associate house manager. But the thrill is getting the up-front seats. Originally, the idea of reserving the first two rows for discount tickets was to assure younger audience members, who might not be able to afford orchestra seats that push close to $70, would be assured at least a few good seats -- in keeping with the spirit of the play. Lotteries are held in San Francisco and New York City, but in most locations, the sale is first-come, first-served, and often ticket buyers will camp outside theaters overnight.

That was impractical in San Francisco, says Cushing, and the lottery was a safer and more attractive way to offer tickets. On an average day, the turnout will include tourists visiting San Francisco, along with the Rentheads who have seen the show multiple times.

"It's almost a sort of Deadhead thing that really adds a different energy to the show," says Cushing. "What you get is more or less usually a younger crowd than you'd typically see at a musical or rock opera. And now, it's reached the point where I recognize some of the people -- when I look at the cards there are lots of names I have seen before."

There's no way to increase your chances in the lottery, Cushing says, but he fully understands why people come back time and again to see the show.

"It really is a unique show, from the way it looks, with the single set that doesn't really move to the cast," he says. "The amazing thing, really, about the show, is its youth; it's the most unique show I've run across in years -- it's truly about love, we've all gotta love each other because there's nothing else. And the cast, all in their teens or early 20s, are just a great company."

Chouinard says she identifies heavily with the story.

"I just guess it hits home for me," she says. "I'm 27 years old, and this seems to be just for our generation, and it's such a positive message. And each time I've seen it, you get a different message from it; the characters seem different."

There is an enormous connection with the story, says Richard Goldman, a San Francisco man who has gotten lottery tickets five times.

"What keeps me coming back is it's such a powerful experience," Goldman says. "It touched me, especially as a gay person and a person living with AIDS who has experience dealing with being disenfranchised and being marginalized. There is a whole sense of community in this musical. I'm sad that it's ending, but I don't feel any more urgency to see it now. I knew the first time I would have to see it many times. And now, it kind of taps into my own urgency issues."