by Liz Nichols
The Edmonton Journal
November 9, 2000

Theatre Review

Rent *** 1/2

Company: American Touring Production

Directed by: Michael Greif

Starring: Christian Mena, Maggie Benjamin, Matt Caplan, Shaun Earl, Brian N. Love, Saycon Sengbloh, Mark Richard Ford, Jacqueline B. Arnold

Where: Jubilee Auditorium

Running: Today through Sunday

Tickets: TicketMaster (451-8000)

Rent was long overdue in this town.

While we were subletting Miss Saigon, Showboat and Cats, and getting a piece of the sleazy condo called Fame, there was something happening in low-rent East Village digs in the mid-'90s. And it was taking the American musical theatre where it hadn't been before, the patch of low-rent real estate outside the stage door in the alley, where the outsiders hang out.

Along the way, Rent attracted a Pulitzer and a passel of Tonys. It was hailed as the breakthrough counter-culture musical of its generation, Hair for the '90s, and the one that married driving rock music to old-fashioned theatricality in a new way. And it moved uptown to Broadway, where it's still enjoying the central heating.

It would be easy to knock Jonathan Larson's 1996 alternative rock musical for its mainstream success, of course. Taking his cue from Puccini's opera La Boheme of exactly a century before, Larson, who died suddenly at age 35 just as Rent went into previes, finds its characters in the raucous threadbare Lower East Side subculture of starving artists, junkies, dealers, the marginalized of every sexual persuasion, the homeless and destitute -- all struggling in a world made feverish and mortal by AIDS. To be sure, there's more of mortgage than squatter about the American Touring Production's temporary accoutrements at the Jube, where Rent has (literally) set up shop (the 2-CD set is yours for $50 in the lobby boutique).

But those kinds of obvious shots -- like the size and price tag of squalour as per Paul Clay's stunning grunge set -- pretty much miss the point of the Rent phenomenon. Witness Tuesday's opening night audience, a much younger crowd than usual for big touring musicals, clambering to its collective feet to cheer. It didn't hurt, either, that Edmonton was welcoming home a favourite performer, the lustrous-voiced Christian Mena, late of the local Latin dance band Maracujah, in a starring role as Roger, a stalled songwriter, HIV-positive like many of the Rent characters, struggling to write one great song before his candle is snuffed out.

Rent is gritty in its look, vigorous and brash in its theatrical style. Its messages, though, in a time of blight, cynicism and fear, are emotionally upbeat, unarguably life-affirming. Hang on to your dreams, it tells us. What American musical (except maybe something by Sondheim) is going to argue with that? "The opposite of war isn't peace; it's creation." Seize the day: Rent's last line is "no day but today." The question gets asked: "How can you connect in an age/ Where strangers, landlords, lovers, your own blood cells betray?" And it's answered. Love. "How do you measure a year in the life?" proposes the stirring Act II anthem, Season of Love. "Measure in love," sings the chorus. The chief spokesperson is lovable street drummer/ drag queen Angel, who succumbs to AIDS.

And since the show has a "plot" (somewhat forced) that hinges on slum landlord Benny evicting impoverished artists and shutting down the tent city next door, there are social barbs about charity, too, perfect for the corporate '90s and beyond. "You're living in America/ at the end of the millennium./Leave your conscience at the tone."

Rent isn't a gripper throughout -- despite the fact that the production that arrives here, directed like the New York original by Michael Greif, has a lot going for it. The singing is hot, and wonderfully diverse, backed up by an excellent give-'er onstage band. But that's not quite enough to get you through an endless succession of lovers' quarrels and reconciliations, and some occasionally pretty nondescript pop ballads.

After all the buildup, when we finally get to hear Roger's one great song at the end, it turns out (despite Mena's powerful, supple voice) to be the most generic in the show. And as an actor Mena isn't physically expressive enough to sell the moment, or indeed the long, confusing arc by which the character overcomes his emotional hurdles, gets inspired, and declares his love for the dying Mimi. As the latter, an HIV-positive junkie and dancer in an S&M club, the beauteous Saycon Seng-bloh sings like a dream, and looks absolutely splendid in Angela Wendt's sassy duds. But she inhabits the stage like a fretful, hyperactive concert singer. And with the exception of their teasing initial encounter, the romantic chemistry between these two doesn't generate enough heat to light anybody's candle.

Matt Caplan plays filmmaker Mark as the wry, puckish, comic nerd who's destined to end up alone in romantic situations. I really liked his self-deprecating authority as narrator, but couldn't begin to believe in his cinematic aspirations. The Tango: Maureen number he shares with Joanne (Jacqueline B. Arnold), the lesbian lawyer to whom he's lost his girlfriend, is memorably sharp and funny. The pairing of Arnold's Joanne and Maggie Benjamin's Maureen, a performance artiste whose one-woman show of protest is a hilariously earnest mish-mash of telegraphed signals, is consistently edgy and intense.

Rent is likable, energetic and, to a point, engaging. I wouldn't want to drag out any "lease on life" lines, though.

- RENT CHECK -- Check out Rent today from 1 to 2 p.m. at HMV's West Edmonton Mall location. Eleven cast members from the production at the Jube will sing three numbers from the show, field questions and sign posters.