More than most community theater fodder, Rent carries
heavy cultural baggage, making it impossible to view Truckee Meadows
Community College’s production in a vacuum, without a nod to the
context in which it is experienced. People are cynical about
Rent the same way they are cynical about James Cameron’s
Titanic. Both have suffered a pop-cultural backlash for wrapping
up rough, ugly experiences with a pretty bow, populating them with
squeaky clean young actors, and—here is the part that really
pisses people off—achieving massive success with their
formulae.
Rent is now something of a relic. Its target audience has
grown up, sold out and moved to suburbia. Many now dismiss the show as
dated and punchless. The fact that the film adaptation was directed by
Chris Columbus, harbinger of such edgy fare as Home Alone and
Mrs. Doubtfire, doesn’t help the show’s street cred.
What people may have forgotten about Rent, however, is that its
story, songs and characters still combine to form something powerful
and unique—if you can set aside your own world-weary
cynicism.
While it’s not exactly Les Miserables in terms of vocal
difficulty, in order for Rent to work, certain roles must be
cast with true singers. Where it counts most, director Paul Aberasturi
somehow managed to find some legitimate talent. Ryan Kelly, Adam Semas
and Tony Johnson are remarkable as the show’s backbone of Mark,
Roger and Collins, respectively. Each brings the skill and passion so
crucial to the show’s effectiveness. Nobody shies away from any
big notes. (Take it from someone who knows every syllable of the
original cast recording.) If this trio is the show’s spine,
Michael Davanzo is its heart in the role of Angel, a charming, lovable,
drag-queen street performer who happens to be slowly dying. Managing to
be both tragic and uplifting, Davanzo, for lack of a more elegant
description, kicks ass. In high-heeled boots. As the
AIDS-victim/junkie/bombshell Mimi, Lauren Logan has all the requisite
sexiness to be convincing as the struggling Roger’s muse. Beyond
the principals, most everyone shines when they get the chance. Ensemble
member Kiet Cao is particularly excellent, nailing several solos,
including the emotional “Life Support” scene.
Enhancing the experience is the sense that everyone onstage is
having one of the greatest experiences of their lives just being a part
of something so special. Many of the actors probably spent countless
hours of their adolescence belting out these songs in their bedrooms.
That kind of passion can’t be faked, and it’s what makes
Rent so effective despite the text’s tendency to be
overwrought and grandiose in spots.
Through a critical lens, TMCC’s production isn’t
perfect. Its cast forgivably lacks some … let’s say, color.
Not every actor is a vocal powerhouse, some are miscast, and a duet or
two suffers rough patches. However, in terms of sheer audience
enjoyment, the production defies skepticism and is
surprisingly—almost shockingly—great. Not to slap anyone
with a backhanded compliment, but when you bite off something this
hugely ambitious, your chances of choking are all the greater.
Rent means a lot to a lot of people. It’s not like staging
Annie. If you’re not up to the task, you’re not just
going to disappoint, you’re going to inspire anger. Yet from the
moment the audience members walk in and see the perfect set,
they’ll forget they’re sitting in a Reno strip mall. And
maybe, just maybe, they’ll forget they live in a cynical age,
where the easiest, laziest way to be cool is to dismiss something as
uncool. True, Rent is packaged for mass-consumption. But if you
let that stop you from being moved, it’s probably your own
problem.