Rent: Live To Tape did what these live musicals are supposed to do—reimagine a beloved musical with a new aesthetic, new performers, and new staging choices.
Lots to enjoy--and yet, there was something a bit remote about this Rent. The imaginative staging of the first act dwindled away until the writhing under the sheets during “Contact” was about as evocative as a CENSORED bar.
Too scattered to ever truly land like it could have, which is a shame. It had a game cast, production value to spare, and a powerful message of queer community that could have made a true statement, if only it knew how to focus on what matters.
The resulting Frankenstein’s monster of a production didn’t fare well, especially during its first half. ... Jordan Fisher proved to be a reliable narrator, giving a spunky if unassuming performance as Mark Cohen. Meanwhile, R&B singer Tinashe gave a forcefully physical performance as the AIDS-stricken junkie and exotic dancer Mimi Márquez. But the show’s energy often bordered on lethargic, feeling like the dress rehearsal it was. That is, until Vanessa Hudgens [...] gave a thrilling and shameless portrayal of Maureen, who struck the stage like a bolt of lighting, shocking everyone around her into life as the first act concluded and leading to a much livelier second act.
The dress rehearsal was rough in many spots. The camera work at times was manic, punctuated by the stray stagehand ducking for cover. It also suffered from a huge distraction--the audience. ... Hudgens brought mad energy to her part. Valentina as the doomed Angel was affecting and downright kicky on “Today 4 U.” Brandon Victor Dixon, the scene-stealer from last year’s “Jesus Christ Superstar,” didn’t find his footing until late in the show. Others in the cast seemed drawn from a community theater production.
If I hadn’t known it going in, the jittery cuts, dizzying camera angles and abbreviated spoken dialogue that plagued Rent: Not-So-Live might’ve lost me. Hyperactive editing rarely allowed for a moment’s pause for reaction shots or to let songs sink in. ... The cast wasn’t entirely right, either.
Its rage (“we’re dying in America at the end of the millennium”) and its love (“live in my house, I’ll be your shelter”) could have given us renewed energy and hope during a long, troubled winter. Instead, due to production mishaps that could have been avoided and were then poorly handled, it barely got to make a sound.