Rent (2005)
by Erin Paulson
Posted: 11/25/05
Rent (2005)
by Aaron Riccio
RENT is a musical that tells the story of a group of friends living in poverty and with AIDS in the early 90's in New York City. I have spent much of the past few months apprehensively anticipating this movie. RENT is my favorite musical, and I was afraid of
Chris Columbus' (Stepmom, Harry Potter 1 & 2) direction of it. I have never been in doubt of my dislike of Mr. Columbus, but fortunately it turned out that with original material as good as Jonathan Larson's musical play, there is little even a mediocre director like Columbus can do to damage it. A very smart move on the filmmakers' parts was to cast the film with as much of the original Broadway cast as possible. This includes Anthony Rapp as the lone observer and documentary filmmaker Mark, Adam Pascal as the emotionally detached singer/songwriter Roger, Taye Diggs as the sell-out asshole Benny, Jesse L. Martin as the lovable and generous Collins, Wilson Jermaine Heredia as the vivacious drag-queen Angel, and Idina Menzel as the ever-flirtatious performer Maureen. New on the cast list are Rosario Dawson as Mimi, the beautiful nightclub dancer who falls for Roger, and Tracie Thoms as Joanne, Maureen's new girlfriend.
There is a difference between most musicals and RENT - in the majority of musicals the story stands still while the characters burst into song. RENT instead seizes on the songs as opportunity to convey the story. They move the story along just as dialog does in most narratives, and although this technique at first seems awkward and forced, it quickly seems to make more sense than the stop and go variety of storytelling. The film provides an opportunity to feel closer to these characters, to truly connect with them, to love them as they love each other.
This isn't to say that the film is flawless, for it is far from it. Much like the play itself, the film begins awkwardly, leaving the audience unconvinced that a film adaptation was called for with this musical. It seems almost forced, and left me quite uncomfortable before I could recall that the play itself had the same effect on me. It isn't until Roger's solo song, One Song Glory, that the music and story begin to win over the audience. From that point onward, Larson's amazing harmonies and story are all that seems to occupy the mind. However, I was left quite appalled by the choice to remove part of Good-bye Love, a song that turns effortlessly from a group song between each of the major characters to a duet between Mark and Roger, and finally to a duet between Roger and Mimi. In my opinion this song is and has always been the emotional core of RENT - the song that gives dimension not only to Roger and Mimi's relationship, but also to the character of Mark. Sadly without this song shown in its entirety, there is little more to Mark's character than the one-dimensional observer he is presented as.
On the whole I must begrudgingly admit that Chris Columbus did a rather decent job adapting this musical for the screen, with help from screenwriter Stephen Chbosky (who happened to write one of my most adored novels, The Perks of Being a Wallflower). They knew to leave well enough alone, that the late Larson's work speaks for itself, and there was surprisingly little meddling involved as a result. In the end, that is why the film is successful. It is as faithful to the original musical as anyone could hope from a film adaptation. It will make you smile, and it will make you weep, and it will make you glad you gave two hours of your time to it.
Erin Paulson is a critic and photographer living in Chicago.
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Rent is a good movie not because it's a good movie, but because the musical version is such a good musical. All that double-talk (like the witty talk-song "lyrics" of both) can be a little confusing, so, plainly put: you can't make a bad movie with Rent's music. However, you can make a faithless adaptation. You can hit the notes and still miss the point. This is pretty much the original cast from Broadway ten years ago, and the replacements, like Rosario Dawson, more than hold their own. No, it's the director's fault: Chris Columbus has learned nothing more about adaptations since Harry Potter. He's the king of cheap knock-offs: superficially pleasing, short-lived and ultimately defective.
Now, Rent is a complicated musical, so a narrow focus is necessary. Songs touch on gay rights, the AIDS epidemic, friendship, and the compromise between personal creativity and social necessity. Presented as a modern opera, or the rock equivalent, Rent succeeded through 
intimacy and the
tight lens of these few lives (stereotypes with hearts of gold from which one could draw larger conclusions). One of the reoccurring themes is even "there's only us, there's only this." But that's not the film Columbus wants to make, and so Rent isn't the film we get. Instead, we get a movie that wants the fantasy of Chicago (even though Rent is hyper-realist) and the epic scope of Moulin Rogue (though Rent is painstaking because it's mundane). We get a musical that does all but focus on the music - the scope is so huge that the songs become background and the singers are lost in the atmosphere. Again: superficially pleasing, but short-lived and ultimately defective.
Now either Columbus doesn't know how to present a song, or he doesn't want to be redundant with his choreography. "One Song Glory," for example, focuses on Roger's past, rather than his present. However, we know he's a former junkie with AIDS, we know he's trying to leave some trace of himself behind before he goes. It's overkill to flashback to his late girlfriend and just poor taste to cinematically stretch the fatefulness of that one infected needle. It's not a terrible scene, nor is it a terrible movie, but neither is it Rent.
The movie is filled with other such liberal "adaptations." For instance, the film begins not in the apartment nor with "Rent," but with "Seasons of Love," the Act II opener.
It may be the catchy anthem of Rent ("five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes"), but it doesn't work here. As filmed, each actor stands onstage, in an empty theater, illuminated by a spotlight. It's an artistic choice, visually simple, but completely unrelated to the film itself: more a confusing prologue than an introduction. Just one more thing Columbus has forgone to make his movie, along with the addition of cold dialogue (the musical was originally entirely in song, just like a real opera). The songs once seemed natural; now they seem forced, and former showstoppers like "La Vie Boheme" are all show, no substance.
It's not all disconnect though: some parts of the film look good. Whenever the movie settles on the budding romance between Roger and Mimi, the natural chemistry picks up the pace more than any fancy camerawork. Chris Columbus should know - just by watching his own work - that Rent looks better on a smaller scale, but perhaps he's following the unwritten rule of Hollywood that "better" must be "bigger." How else to explain the dream sequence of "Tango: Maureen" or the scene changes of "Take Me or Leave Me"? Why else would he exaggerate Avenue A, circa 1989, unless trying to nail home a point that artists must all be starving and living in slums?
The fact is that Rent needs no emphasis, no gilding, and no fancy bells-and-whistles. That Columbus has so adorned it with spectacle speaks not only to a major fault of Hollywood but to his own misinterpretation of the material. The finished product, despite visual flaws, can still be construed as entertainment, but only so far as George W. can be construed as a good president: The foundation is so strong; How can anyone completely fuck it up?
Aaron Riccio is a critic based in NYC.
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