There’s Only Us
Before “Rent,” we had “Tick, Tick… Boom!,” setting the stage for greatness: “Rent.” That greatness came thirty years ago. I cannot believe thirty years have gone by. I remember we were getting ready to celebrate one of my sister’s milestone birthdays, and she wanted to see a play. We figured our dad would select it and buy the tickets. He was the master at knowing Broadway. He saw everything.
Well, I picked what we’d see. I was reading the Village Voice’s reviews of an energetic, emotional, rockin’ play called “Rent.” I decided that’s what we’d see. I told my family. They agreed. Dad bought the tickets.
On her birthday, we walked into the Nederlander, and I was overwhelmed. A day or two later, I went to Sam Goody (remember that store?) and bought the CD soundtrack. To this day, I listen to it nonstop. I have seen it on and off Broadway many times. In 2008, when it closed, I was at one of the last performances and scribbled my notes on the wall outside the Nederlander. Sadly, they eventually removed everything we Rentheads wrote.
I have seen the original cast in everything they’ve done since leaving the show. I have attended speaking engagements they’ve done. I have Idina Menzel’s signed debut CD, “Still I Can’t Be Still,” which she released after she left the show. I’ve been frozen. I was wicked. But without her. Without Kristin Chenoweth, too, for that matter. I even went to a private holiday party Menzel’s dad, Stuart, attended. For me, it was very exciting. By then, she was divorced, done with “Wicked,” and ready to let it go as the ice queen.
On Oct. 26, the original cast and many other actors who have performed in the show gathered at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, now home to “Hamilton,” to celebrate thirty years. Streaming parties were held across the city and in people’s living rooms. I attended the one at City Winery. When I got to its loft, the waitress suggested a Pinot Noir. I agreed. I said, I wish my mom were attending. She would have had wine. I would have gotten beer. She replied, “wine and beer” (one of the famous lines from “La Vie Bohème”).
She was definitely too young to have seen the original cast. But she knew it inside out. That’s the thing with “Rent.” I was one of the older people there. I am sure Idina’s post-“Rent” activities got people to see it, and of course, anyone looking for a great story about life doesn’t need to look any further.
The streaming party was incredible. It was kind of like seeing the “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” People dressed up as characters; we knew every line, and we all had stories about the first time we saw it. Thankfully, I saw it with the original cast. Going to this party felt solemn, almost holy. Everyone is so dedicated, and you can feel the energy. Throughout most of my life, I felt only The Cure could do that. At a Cure show, we all, clothed in black from head to toe, move in sync with the music’s passion. I am willing to bet many of the people at the event listen to Robert Smith’s deep vocals.
What about “Rent” grabs us, and how do some of us see it differently now that we have aged together? The story is a classic NYC story of starving artists and their love interests. The timeframe is the late 80s to early 90s, set in the pre-Giuliani Alphabet City, at the height of the AIDS crisis. Many are infected with HIV/AIDS. Some die from it. The characters are young and trying to get a break not just from the disease, but with friendship, work, and love. Jonathan Larson penned it at a time when so many of us were trying to get this break. So many of us are still trying. We all know Larson didn’t get a break. Sadly, he never got to see it.
These days, many of us see it differently, and even more profoundly, than we did when it debuted. We’ve had jobs, lost jobs, and are still looking for the right one and the right partner. At the time of the show, I didn’t know anyone who passed from AIDS. At least, I don’t think I did. Years later, I knew several. That’s why I decided to do the AIDS Walk many times. Next year, I will ask you to donate to my team. Now, I find it harder to watch certain scenes, knowing what people I knew went through.
After the streaming ended with “Seasons of Love,” some people walked out. Maybe they had to catch a train to Jersey or the ferry to Staten Island. Some stayed and watched the stars exit the theater and be interviewed. I was the last one out.
Rent will always be with me. I cannot wait for the fiftieth anniversary.
ACT UP. Fight AIDS.
