RENT TO THE HEART
The Toronto Sun, November 22nd, 1998
by John Coulbourn
Art imitates life. Life iminates art.
But when it comes furter extensions, that whole life-imitating
art-imitating-life thing can get tedious, or tired, or even
too-cute-by-half, all in the space of a heartbeat.
It can also catch in your throat and do funny things to your eyes,
things that make you grateful for the unseasonable nip in the air, the
bracing cold that makes your skin feel as if it's two sizes too small
and brings a tear to any eye.
Krysten Cummings and Jai Rodriguez don't so much enter a restaurant as
ride into it on a wave of youthful enthusiasm.
This morning, bundled against the early Toronto winter, they could be
just two more local kids strayed south from Queen Street to King; she,
for fashion's sake, none-too-well insulated from the unseasonal chill;
he more kindly wrapped in the more climate-appropriate confines of
rapper-chic.
They bicker. They grouse about the ungodliness of the hour. Mostly the
laugh, recounting Rodriguez's streetbound attemps to awaken a
determinedly somnolent Cummings for this pre-noon interview as she slept
four storeys above him.
"So typical," he says with a roll of his eyes while Cummings laughs.
There is little typical about what brings them to this table, in this
city, on this morning.
Both Americans - she from New Jersey, he from Rhode Island - they are
two of the featured performers in Rent, the Jonathan Larson musical
slated to have its Canadian premiere at the Royal Alexandra Theatre next
Sunday.
In this updated and vastly re-worked re-telling of Puccini's La Boheme,
Cummings is cast as Mimi, perhaps the most recognizable remnant of
Puccini's 1830 Paris as it is transformed into Larson's very 1990s New
York.
Rodriguez's character is very much of Larson's invention, a reflection
of a contemporary take on a world where AIDS has replaced tuberculosis
and colour has replaced class. Set in a seedy New York warehouse loft,
Rent is a story about homelessness, hopelessness, disease, love, death,
hope, art and the whole ball of wax.
As the transvestite homosexual Angel, Rodriguez's teaming with Cummings'
Mimi doesn't so much give the show its heart, as it follows them to lead
an audience to that heart.
Not only does the audience love them, but the script also calls for them
to be pretty tight with each other.
"That part of it is a cake walk," they say.
"In the show, we're supposed to be best friends, and (outside the show)
we get along so well," Rodriguez reports with obvious affection.
Indeed, their friendship appears to have flourished in the short time
since they began rehearsals.
Before that, Cummings was a struggling actress in England and Rodriguez,
having finished high school, had embarded on a secondary education in
the performing arts before he was cast.
"I was in college for 30, 35 days and I just left," he says without
apology. "This is just one of those things."
Rodriguez had fallen in love with the show the first time he saw it in
its Broadway incarnation.
That was last March, he recalls. "Then I slept in the street (to get $20
rush seats). I was a Renthead. The show just totally moved me. In
school, everyone said I'd be Angel in the show."
Cummings, for her part, still hasn't seen the show - at least not from
the outside looking in.
She's heard plenty about it - first through the union of Ma and Ma Bell.
"I got a call in England from my mother," Cummings recalls.
"She'd just seen a piece on Rent on TV, which I do not own."
And no, it wasn't mother's way of getting her back on North American
soil.
"My parents are very heavy supporters of the arts," she says, "and
they've accepted that I'm really not getting anotehr job. This is it."
As for her character, Cummings is finding life as contemporary Mimi a
perfect fit.
"She's great," she enthuses.
"She's me."
"I think that timing is everything and this timing is perfect. No, I'm
not HIV-positive adn I'm not a heroin addict, but I've experienced these
things close enough to be there."
"All the things I've done before have led to this moment."
There's a personal element in Rodriguez's attachment to the show, too,
portraying as it does life amongst the AIDS-infected.
"My aunt is HIV-positive and my passed away from AIDS in 1987," he
recalls.
"Rent was really close to home and I think that's why I loved the show
so much."
As for his character, he's crazy about him, so much so that he doesn't
even mind the women's wardrobe that is Angel's everyday attire.
"He's a wonderful guy," actor says of character. "I like him a lot. I'm
just really comfortable with it. I think Angel is really proud of who he
is. I think he's already cool with himself."
Rent is a New York show - set in New York, about New Yorkers, created on
the New York stage - but both actores are certain that the show's appeal
stretches far beyond the limits of that city's five boroughs.
"The issues that are dealt with in this show are universal," Cummings
insists, looking out the window at Toronto's winter landscape.
"Homelessness is a big issue here."
"It's a big deal here," chimes in Rodriguez, adding that in some ways,
it's even worse than in Manhattan, where, he points out, "It's not
common to see kids sleeping in the streets."
Raised by a very religious mother, Rodriguez admits that it's unusual to
find someone of his background playing a part like this in a show like
this.
"Growing up," he muses, "I think I had a sense of what was correct and
that wasn't correct. I think I've developed what I believe in."
Religious people might have a problem with the show, he concedes: "If
they are looking at it from the point of view that God forbids this sort
of thing."
"But for most of us, God is love. I see the show in that light. You can
view the show any way you like. The show just throws it out there and
says: "Here it is, do what you want with it."
Besides, they both insist, there's so much more to this show than
sexuality.
"Suddenly, there are all these issues flying around on stage, and they
aren't really issues," Cummings says with relish. "Every single couple
on stage is an inter-racial couple. . . "
It's a whirlwind lunch, made more so by the breath and the depth and
the sheer enthusiasm of the conversation and, too soon, both actors are
donning winter garb to head out for reahearsal.
I watch them cross the street, laughing and joking, clowning but deep in
youthful conversation, and, just for a second, it's hard to remember
whether that is Krysten and Jai - or Mimi and Angel.
And in that second, I'm glad for the cold.