Nobody doubts that Jonathan Larson’s hit musical is great. With lofty aims and plenty to say, this update of Puccini’s La bohème, set in 1980s New York, is serious, adventurous and ambitious Art with a capital A. Its return to the London stage is overdue and exciting. This strong production, directed by Luke Sheppard, does the piece justice, but the revival is not so much superb as simply welcome.
There is plenty to praise. The minimal staging is smart and appropriate, its lo-fi veneer belying the sophistication of Larson’s songs and lyrics. Putting seating on the stage is a nice idea. Tom Jackson Greaves’ choreography, working within the reduced space, is impressive, while Howard Hudson’s lighting design is fantastic. Mark, the show’s narrator, is a filmmaker, and his work is shown on televisions and projected onto the stage. Screens are becoming far too common in theatre, but Sheppard keeps their impact impressively minimal.
Not relying on technology is important. Larson clearly had a healthy suspicion of it, and the references to virtual reality in the show are prescient. Sheppard does well to lean into these ideas, seldom scared of the production looking or sounding raw. Other battles Larson wanted to fight, first and foremost against gentrification, have surely been lost. That takes some of the sting out of Rent – a piece that wants to protest – but it is hardly the fault of anyone involved.
The cast is strong, and much of the singing is superb. Danielle Fiamanya and Lazy Violet impress as two lovers, their duet fantastic, just pipped by Jeevan Braich and Billy Nevers as another couple. Nevers’ reprise of ‘I’ll Cover You’ guarantees goosebumps. It is also pleasing to note that Gaten Matarazzo’s top billing is deserved: he brings a suitably steely edge to Mark, backed by a strong voice. The real highlights, however, come when the whole cast sings together. This was Larson’s greatest strength as a writer, and hearing these songs performed collectively is powerful.
There is another couple to account for: Roger and Mimi, played by Travis Ross and Alexa Lopez. Their relationship is complicated by Joaquin Pedro Valdes, who is rather underused and gets lost in the mix – that’s a real shame. Ross and Lopez give impassioned performances, which will surely win fans. I’m less convinced. Of course, there is plenty of opportunity to emote: the characters are addicts – and they are ill. But, as with too many members of the ensemble, any chance to grab the spotlight is seized for all it is worth. The commitment is admirable, but there is a sense that the performances, and the show itself, are in awe of the songs. Understandable, perhaps, but ultimately detrimental.
Until 29 May 2027
Photo by Pamela Raith