Directed by Chris Columbus

Sony Pictures Entertainment

2 1/2 stars



Once upon a time (the mid-nineties), the Broadway musical “Rent” ruled America: The critical establishment showered it with statuettes, it spawned a hit single with “Seasons of Love,” and legions of “red-state” tourists descended on the isle of Manhattan like a plague of cornfed locusts just to see it.

The widespread popularity of the musical was surprising: Not many would have predicted that a gritty depiction of inner-city poverty, drug addiction, and the ravages of AIDS would have broad appeal. (Maybe it had something to do with the show’s rockin’ soundtrack and attractive cast of multi-cultural twenty-somethings.)

But all of this success was bittersweet, as the show’s writer and composer, Jonathan Larson, died suddenly from an aneurysm shortly before its debut. The specter of his loss haunted each performance and lent them a funerary solemnity.

Unfortunately, Chris Columbus’ cinematic adaptation of the musical is a devastating betrayal of Larson’s creative legacy, retaining none of its source material’s verve, intensity, or gravitas. Perhaps this should not shock; Colombus is the auteur behind the “Home Alone” series.

Columbus never devises a satisfactory way to translate the conventions of musical theatre into the cinematic idiom: “Rent” doesn’t embrace its show-tune cheesiness in the manner of Rob Marshall’s “Chicago,” nor does it opt for cinematic seriousness like Bille August’s “Les Miserables.” Either would have been preferable to Columbus’ middle-of-the-road approach: “Rent”’s schizophrenic shifts between dramatic scenes and musical set pieces are better suited to Bollywood than Hollywood.

Steven Chbosky’s screenplay also disappoints. He does little more than transcribe the musical’s libretto: almost all of the film’s dialogue—even that which is not sung—rhymes. This gives the movie an unfortunate Seussian feel, and drains the tension from the film’s darker scenes.

Stephen Goldblatt’s murky and colorless photography won’t be winning any awards either. Because one of the central characters (Mark, played by Anthony Rapp) is a freelance filmmaker, I half expected a plot twist that would reveal the movie to be “his” documentary of his and his friends’ lives—that at least would explain the enterprise’s amateur production value.

A few of the film’s scenes do succeed: The “Santa Fe” musical number is especially inspired. The cast performs the song in a crowded subway car and recruits unsuspecting commuters into their impromptu revelry. Keith Young’s spirited choreography transforms every inch of the cramped quarters into performance space—the result is a dance sequence as exhilarating as any Steve McQueen car chase or Chow Yun-Fat shoot-out.

The film’s acting and singing is uniformly strong, possibly because most of the original Broadway cast reprises their roles: The exceptions are Tracie Thoms as straitlaced lesbian lawyer Joanne and Rosario Dawson as the HIV-positive Latina heroine.

Thoms proves herself a true triple threat in “Rent.” Her singing voice is far and away the strongest of the cast, her dancing is expert, and her acting is measured and effective—all of these talents are on display in her showcase number, “The Tango Maureen.”

Dawson also acquits herself nicely. Her singing voice is slight but adequate to the demands. Dawson’s real talent is dance: her turn as a stripper during the “Take Me Out” number strikes the perfect balance between playfulness and erotic menace—fans of Robert Rodriguez’s “Sin City” will likely be reminded of Dawson’s portrayal of the mercenary hooker, Gail.

Fault for the film’s failure falls squarely on Columbus’ shoulders: The strong performances of “Rent” cannot compensate for his lackadaisical direction. As a result, the film plays like a series of music videos casually strung together by stuporous expository scenes.

“Rent” unfortunately adds up to less than the sum of its parts, failing to fulfill its real potential. Spike Lee, Sam Mendes, and Baz Luhrmann were all rumored to be attached to the project at various times —one cannot help but wonder how these auteurs might have better delivered on the show’s promise.

If Columbus’ film is your first exposure to the musical, you’re not likely to understand what all the fuss was about. But try to keep in mind that, once upon a time, “Rent” was a vital work of art.

—Staff writer Bernard L. Parham can be reached at parham@fas.harvard.edu.