Review
9 July 2024
Canberra Youth Theatre is dedicated to raising the voices of young people, and helping them have their say about theatre, the arts, and everything in between. Our Young Critics program provides emerging voices the platform to share reviews such as the one below. The views expressed are those of the writer and do not reflect the views of Canberra Youth Theatre or its staff.
Kat Dunkerley, one of our Canberra Youth Theatre Young Critics, reviews the LPD Production’s tour of Rent at the Canberra Theatre Centre.
Image Credit – Pia Johnson Photography.
Whether Take Me or Leave Me has headlined your road-trip playlist, or you have used the phrase ‘pookie’ before, there is some element of Rent that refuses to leave the minds of contemporary theatre culture. Perhaps it is how the story follows many tales of what it is like to dream, or merely survive, under the current capitalist society, especially when you are not above the line of financial comfort. With a camera and an unwillingness to pay his landlord, Mark (Noah Mullins) sets in motion the narrative of an ensemble of New York bohemians in 1999 searching for something that will help them find purpose, from writing the song that defines them as an artist, to anti-eviction plays from a cow’s perspective, and everything in between.
To be a dated script is a death warrant in the ever-changing canon of new, “relatable” content. There is no denying that this play is heavily influenced by the period it’s set within; in fact, that is in part the show’s plot. However, this production is unapologetic of its end-of-the-millennium setting, which panders well to modern audiences.
2020’s culture, especially that of Gen Z, is one of upcycling designs and trends from previous decades that resonate with us. As a testament to this statement, the friend I saw the show with at Canberra Theatre Centre was dressed in a way that mirrored the lively, trashy-treasure costumes of Ella Butler’s design I so adored. Unsurprisingly, some of the cultural struggles from those decades also seep into the modern day. Zoom in on the housing crisis facing Australians today. As a young person in the audience, I deeply resonated with the show’s thesis on the struggle to pay rent with the multiple curveballs life throws at you, especially as young, queer artists trying to make an impact in some way, shape or form.
In the past few years, I have recovered from the musical-obsession epidemic which sweeps over theatre tweens following their induction into the Hamilton fandom/cult. It had been a while since I had been an audience member for a stage musical, and longer still since such productions had enraptured me, heart and soul. Yet, it was Shaun Rennie’s production of Rent (LPD Productions) that echoed my own personal zeitgeist as a young creative who is still learning life’s nuances.
I am someone who asks myself upon watching a theatre production why the story must be told through the medium of theatre. This rendition of Rent pleasantly swarmed me with reasons beyond doubt, proving its vitality in spades. As someone who felt unsatisfied upon viewing the 2005 film adaptation due to its clunky pacing and lack of flow (among other reasons), Dann Barber’s set not only looked like a scene from my industrial, homey, shabby-chic Pinterest dreams, but also offered a sense of cohesion through the stage which set cohesion in motion for all other aspects of this production.
One of these was the ensemble cast of what could only be described as rock-star performers (to use my 90s vocabulary). To rattle off each of the ways each performer radiated pure effervescence would not make this a review, but a manuscript of my experiences viewing theatre magic. But there were certainly moments when my heart was unexpectedly stolen – more than I thought was possible when one sits in a red, retractable seat. Whether it be a heartbreaking glance at Calista Nelmes during a solemn scene towards the start of Act 2, or the quiet, stolen moments between Jerrod Smith and Martha Berhane, or Hannah McInerney as a vocal powerhouse during Seasons of Love, there was something remarkable – big or small – in every scene.
Living in Canberra and pursuing creative passions don’t always mix, as I consider this one of the most sleepy, conventional state capitals in Australia, especially as a teen. Remorseless, risqué and relevant, this production of Rent shows what theatre in Australia can be, what it ought to be. If I was made of money, you could count on me sitting in the audience for every show, but alas, my bank account often reflects those of the show’s characters. Perhaps the irony of this show is that those who can afford to see it are often those who may not relate as intrinsically to the characters’ financial struggles. And yet, if theatre is not there to develop a sense of understanding for those in different predicaments than us, what is the point at all?
Kathleen Dunkerley is an active participant in the theatre community around Canberra. Whether it be acting, directing, playwriting or reviewing, Kathleen has found theatre to be an unmatched creative outlet. Kathleen has found a welcoming community, along with plenty of rich and rewarding opportunities, with the many pathways Canberra Youth Theatre has to offer, including her ambassadorship. Kathleen made her Canberra Youth Theatre performance debut as Ren in The Trials, and will be seen later this year in Work, But This Time Like You Mean It. She is also a member of the Daramalan Theatre Company. Outside of theatre, Kathleen spends her time unwisely: usually sleeping, bleeding her eardrums with the musical stylings of Jeff Buckley or Radiohead, or procrastinating any number of assignments – occasionally all three at the same time.
