Rent

I was a big fan of Rent back in high school, but I hadn't watched the movie in years. Chris Columbus's 2005 adaptation of Jonathan Larson's hit musical has a mixed reputation among Rent-heads, but I personally love it.

December 24th, 1989, 9 P.M., Eastern Standard Time - New York City's Alphabet City, as a tenement is about to be bought by a mega-corporation and its denizens evicted for not paying rent. These include: Roger Davis (Adam Pascal), the bitter rock musician who seeks "one song glory"; Mark Cohen (Anthony Rapp), the would-be film maker and ex-boyfriend of flirty bisexual performance artist Maureen Johnson (Idina Menzel), who is now with the anal-retentive lawyer Joanne (Tracie Thoms); anarchist philosopher Tom Collins (Jesse L. Martin) and his transsexual lover Angel Dumont Schunard (Wilson Jermaine Heredia); and heroin-addicted dancer Mimi (Rosario Dawson), who is in love with Roger. The opposition is Benjamin Coffin III (Taye Diggs), a former friend who has now "sold out." The characters also combat AIDS, drug addiction and romantic difficulties.

A loose reworking of Puccini's La Boheme, Rent celebrates the lives of young artists struggling to get by. It's not that the movie celebrates their being selfish, completely supports them or upholds them as geniuses. Its celebration of them comes on a much more basic level, as people struggling to live under difficult circumstances: facing eviction, struggling to make a living, combating addiction and dying from AIDS.

Rent is, above all, a wonderfully humanist story. Its uplifting message about living life and staying true to one's self, along with the endearingly optimistic tone and driving energy, is universally appealing. The movie accepts its racially and sexually diverse cast mostly without comment, with no bigots being told off and no speeches about tolerance. The movie does err in trimming Benny from a conflicted sell-out to a cardboard villain demanding rent, an odd blip in an otherwise solid adaptation. The story segues a bit uneasily from vibrant celebration into tragedy, but the sheer emotional power of Angel's death makes up for the second half's awkward plotting. Through sheer chemistry and emotional power, you care about these characters, even if many of them are narcissistic jerks.

The film is mostly faithful to the source: a few songs are cut or trimmed, and the rock opera is turned into a conventional musical. Columbus handles the big numbers wonderfully: the understated Seasons of Love, the angry Rent, the sexy Light My Candle, the heart-breaking Will I? and I'll Cover You, and my favorite, the wonderfully energetic, anarchic, perfectly-choreographed La Vie Boheme. The movie opens up more than enough, with lots of NYC location shooting, a MGM fantasy dance for Tango: Maureen, and Roger's trip to New Mexico during What You Own. A few weak numbers just sit there (Today 4 U, Over the Moon), but they weren't much better on stage. Most of the cuts (the annoying "Voice Mail" blurbs) were wise, though I miss the horribly sad Goodbye, Love.

Columbus makes a risky move in casting most of the original Broadway cast. Aside from Law and Order's Jesse L. Martin and Taye Diggs (How Stella Got Her Groove Back, Chicago), they only have a handful of film and TV appearances between them, and they're also arguably too old for their parts. The idea is sound: box office be damned, why not get the original actors with their talent and chemistry? This definitely works, as their collective performance overcomes a few rough patches.

Martin, Anthony Rapp and Wilson Jermaine-Heredia come off best, effortlessly recapturing the passion and energy of their stage roles. On the other hand, Adam Pascal badly shows his age, Diggs is sorely underused, and though gorgeous, Idina Menzel (Enchanted) is annoying. Rosario Dawson (Sin City) and Tracie Thoms (Grindhouse) fit in like a glove: Dawson gets arguably the meatiest role, portraying Mimi with the right mixture of sexiness and desperation. Thoms's Joanne is a wet fish, but she has an amazing singing voice, sizzling in her big duet with Menzel. Fortunately, the cast has remarkable chemistry and easily gets through the individual bumps.

Rewatching Rent all these years later is like revisiting an old friend. I could easily pick out flaws with the material, but I like it enough that I'd rather not. Hopefully, coming from a guy who ordinarily can't stand musicals, this endorsement means something.