Rent

Even a fire alarm and evacuation on opening night at the Hayes could only briefly pause the energy and enthusiasm. Raw and vibrant, Rent returns joyously to it’s Off-Broadway roots at Sydney’s Hayes Theatre Co.

Rent borrows its plot from La Boheme, transporting the bohemian characters to New York’s East Village in the early 1990s, where the artistic community is being ravaged by HIV/AIDS and threatened by gentrification, re-setting the operatic plot with a rock musical theatre score.

Harking back to the intimate 1996 Off-Broadway origins of the show, in a 150 seat theatre, rather than the huge Broadway hit Rent grew into, the current Hayes Theatre Co experience has far more proximity and urgency than the original Australian production.

Lauren Peters’ design strips back the Hayes stage to the brickwork; an aptly raw and grungy feel for the show’s derelict setting. With props that might well have been grabbed from a council kerbside collection, and a curtain resembling well used painter’s plastic dropsheet, so much just seems so right from the very first impression.

I’m no ‘Renthead’ (die-hard), but I’ve loved this gloriously imperfect rock musical from the first time I listened to the double CD cast recording (like Jesus Christ Superstar and Chess before it), even if my theatrical experiences since enjoying its initial Broadway incarnation have been mixed (too often it’s played more like a series of rock videos).

Creator Jonathan Larson died before the show’s first Off-Broadway preview, after working on the show for seven years, leaving a marvelous through-sung score, but a very sparse scenario. It’s up to the performers and creatives to develop and chart character and relationship arcs, and illuminate the narrative for audiences, striving for clarity at each turn. First time director Shaun Rennie’s big-hearted production accepts that challenge.

Stephen Madsen provides a strong credible anchor for the production as the film-maker Mark, through whose eyes the story is told. Linden Furnell broods convincingly as would-be rock star Roger, adding a real level of musical and dramatic credibility with his live guitar playing. Lauren Hunter is an attractive, sensual Mimi. The chemistry in the emotional standoff between Furnell and Hunter simmers engagingly.

Nana Matapule and Christopher Scalzo establish a heartfelt relationship between Collins and Angel, ensuring it genuinely matters throughout, doing justice to this core part of the soul of Rent.

The bantering, tempestuous relationship between Joanne and Maureen entertains, reaching a zenith as Casey Donovan and Laura Bunting raise the roof with their red hot in-your-face vocal battle of wills, ‘Take Me or Leave Me’. Earlier I enjoyed Bunting’s reinvention of Maureen’s performance piece ‘Over the Moon’, and the general quirkiness with which she endows the role.

Matthew Pearce rounds out the principal cast effectively as landlord and former flatmate Benny.

They’re supported by just the sort of hot, young ensemble this show demands, effectively creating a wide range the supporting roles and adding to the wattage of big vocal numbers.

If I have a real disappointment, it’s the choreography. If you’ve seen the stunning use of signing in video clips Deaf West’s current Broadway production of Spring Awakening, from which the idea of signing in the current production seems to have been borrowed, choreographer Andy Dexterity’s use of it may leave you a little underwhelmed. In Deaf West’s production, signing emerges naturally and organically from the combination of deaf and hearing actors in the production. Here I can’t quite see the point.

Sound is always something an issue with rock scores in this small black-box theatre, but Andrew Worboys’ band drives the show with a lively rock pulse, and though the mix may never be ideal in this venue, Jed Silver’s sound design constantly seeks to find a balance where the fine musical theatre voices on display are never overwhelmed, and the lyrics were delivered with clarity.

This production, totally sold out before opening night, cries out for an extended season.

I wish we had a somewhat grungy, medium-sized venue where the show could transfer – somewhere like the New Art (Valhalla) in Glebe, home to so many happy Rocky Horror memories, but now, sadly, just offices and apartments.

Neil Litchfield

Photographer: Kurt Sneddon