Last seen in London’s West End almost two decades ago, Jonathan Larson’s acclaimed hit Rent takes up residence at The Tom Stoppard Theatre in an impressive revival that helps the show celebrate its 30th birthday.
Directed by Luke Sheppard, who returns to the show having staged a previous revival six years ago at Manchester’s Hope Hill Theatre, impacted by the pandemic, this new version of Rent reconfigures the West End venue into an in-the-round space. This gives an all-encompassing view of the chaos and camaraderie among the young artist characters struggling to survive in 1990s Lower Manhattan’s creative East Village environment, all while the emergence of HIV/AIDS ravages their community.
Loosely inspired by Giacomo Puccini’s 1896 opera La Bohème, Rent’s 1990s take revolves around struggling filmmaker Mark Cohen (Gaten Matarazzo, making his West End debut), whose handheld camera documents the lives and experiences of those around him, such as musician Roger (a defiant Travis Ross) and professor Tom (a standout Billy Nevers). The production weaves through the experiences of the numerous characters and relationships that blossom and explode here, all threatened by eviction, illness, heartbreak, and death. Larson’s book, rich in musicality, is equally vivid in its intimate storytelling, building to a poignant finale that only slightly creaks under this version’s almost three-hour runtime.
Sheppard’s take on Rent focuses exclusively on excavating the connections and intimacies between the characters. There is an attempt to reiterate this in the play’s in-the-round setup, designed by David Woodhead, which places a handful of rows on the stage banking the back wall and drawing the audience into the derelict warehouse the creatives call home.
It is a noble decision, but one that feels a little unnecessary and, as performers weave through it, creates baggier moments. Indeed, much of the performance is directed front-facing, so while those on stage get an up-close view, it is not the 360-degree surround one might expect. Sheppard’s direction tries to arrest this with slick ensemble moments that enable the cast to sit around the perimeter, resulting in some visually stark choreographed (Tom Jackson Greaves) sequences that are compelling.
Staging quirks aside, it is the standout skill of the cast that elevates the emotion and musicality of this revival. Matarazzo grows into the role of Mark, whose uncertainty erodes into something more controlled and mature by the end. His ever-present handheld camera, projected onto grainy 1990s TV screens around the auditorium, is a nice touch. Meanwhile, Ross’s HIV-positive rock guitarist, still grieving the death of his girlfriend April, is performed with terrific tenderness and breathtaking rawness as he tries to write one last meaningful song. His grief is complicated by the arrival of anarchic stripper Mimi (Alexa Lopez), whose sensual poise provides colour and flirtation to a first half that drifts into bleak wallowing for Roger.
While the sense of impending death lingers over characters like Roger, it is felt with full force in the relationship between Nevers’s Tom and his drag queen partner Angel (Jeevan Braich). Nevers threatens to steal the show during a devastating second half performance, while Braich’s flamboyant portrayal of Angel gives way to a much more moving delivery as Angel’s AIDS diagnosis takes hold. Sheppard’s direction of this, as well as Greaves’s choreography, is superb, combining brilliantly with Howard Hudson’s violent strobe lighting design.
Moreover, Lazy Violet’s quirky Maureen is fun and energetic, neatly contrasted by her stoic lawyer girlfriend Joanne (Danielle Fiamanya). Meanwhile, Joaquin Pedro Valdes’s Benny lingers as the play’s closest thing to a villain, a creative turned landowner whom the rest see as a sell-out.
It is one of theatre’s biggest tragedies that Larson never saw the success Rent was to become, dying the night before its Off-Broadway opening. Three decades on, this new version does not just pay homage to Larson’s brilliant writing, but finds a new energy, underpinned by an exhilarating musicality that makes up for brief bloated moments, capturing the raw experiences of these characters with stark clarity.
