Some productions revisit the past. Others reframe it. This RENT, directed with clarity and emotional precision by Shaun Rennie, does something far more arresting: it reclaims the present. It doesn’t merely revive Johnathan Larson’s musical, it ignites it, demanding we confront its politics, urgency, and yearning for connection not as history, but as now. In an era where cultural erasure of marginalised communities persists, from Manhattan to Marrickville, RENT is not a period piece. It’s a mirror.
Set in New York’s East Village during the AIDS crisis and the accelerating wave of gentrification, the musical follows a group of friends; queer, broke, brilliant, and dying, who insist on living and creating in a world that devalues both. As America, and Australia, contends with rising inequality, housing precarity, and the devaluing of creative labour, RENT feels more relevant than ever.
The lineage of this story is not new. Larson’s version is a contemporary reimagining of Puccini’s La Bohème, a tale of struggling artists facing love and death in 19th-century Paris. It is no coincidence that just weeks ago, Opera Australia also staged the haunting and magnificent La Bohème on this very stage, where RENT now takes up the space. The echo between the two productions speaks not only to the diversity of Australian theatre audiences, but to the enduring and urgent need to tell this story, again and again.
Jack Earle’s music direction ensures Larson’s score explodes with the power originally intended. The musicians are, as expected, experts in their craft. Luca Dinardo’s choreography is playful, fun, stylised yet grounded, never ornamental.
Dann Barber’s sensational set design is rich in visual metaphor and restraint. A skeletal urban structure, unfinished and under siege, evokes a cityscape being slowly hollowed out and reconstructed for the wealthy. It’s an elegant, intelligent reflection of gentrification, not just as an aesthetic backdrop, but as a structural force shaping the lives of those onstage. As sung in “La Vie Bohème,” this is art born of, “inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing.”
Paul Jackson’s lighting is breathtaking and always in service of the emotion, he amplifies the rawness of the performances and guides us through moments of devastation, defiance, and sheer ecstasy. Ella Butler’s costumes are so fabulous, alive with humour and metaphor, clothes as armour, identity, and protest which not so subtly reinforces the show’s tension between erasure and artistic expression.
However, it is the mainly Australian and mostly local cast that elevates this RENT to the next level. Jesse Dutlow is magnetic as Angel, generous, joyful, and devastatingly human. Their chemistry with Googoorewon Knox’s Collins is deeply felt; when Collins sings the aching “I’ll Cover You (Reprise),” it becomes a howl of love and grief. Kristin Paulse’s Mimi is all flame and vulnerability, her “Out Tonight” is thrilling, and her “Without You” quietly shattering. Harry Targett’s Roger simmers with sorrow and self-loathing, but his surrender to love lends “Your Eyes” its final, earned poignancy. Henry Rollo makes Mark more than a narrator, he’s a man unravelling, caught between documenting the world and engaging with it. Calista Nelmes is a wildfire as Maureen, “Over the Moon” is vocally thrilling, and commanding, while Imani Williams grounds Joanne with sharp intensity and vocal dexterity. Tana Laga’aia’s Benny is no caricature, his presence is quieter, more insidious, a reminder that power doesn’t always arrive with malice, but with property deeds.
Homage also needs to be paid to the ensemble: beautiful harmonies and solo moments, physically dynamic, and integral in building the world. They move set pieces with precision, and embody the chaos and resilience of the city. Their rendition of “Seasons of Love” is a highlight, it is gorgeously sung, soulfully delivered, and a moment of true stillness that lets the heart of the show rise to the surface.
This RENT refuses to romanticise struggle. It doesn’t soften grief. It honours the urgency of Larson’s writing, taking his most defiant lines as provocation: “The opposite of war isn’t peace, its creation.” It’s a show that reminds us gentrification is not just an economic process, it’s cultural, emotional, personal. It reclaims space, redraws boundaries, and decides who gets to belong. Fittingly, one of the most uplifting songs, “La Vie Bohème” erupts like a manifesto, the entire cast irreverent, joyful, furious and intent on throwing down a challenge to complacency.
In an era where communities are still scapegoated, legislated against, and economically erased, RENT becomes more than a musical. It’s a provocation. As America, and much of the world, slides into renewed culture wars and creeping fascism, RENT reminds us what’s at stake when we fail to value the vulnerable, the different, the nonconforming. It’s achingly humorous, it’s not just about living with courage, it’s about loving without permission, creating without apology, and refusing to be made invisible. “No day but today,” they sing, not as a slogan, but as an invocation. And on this stage, those words don’t feel like theatre, they feel like a challenge to live, to feel, and to wake the hell up.
“Forget Regret”, go see this masterpiece, “or life is yours to miss”. I felt like I witnessed Australian theatre History in the making. This is special.
An Opera Australia production, RENT is playing until Saturday 1 November 2025 at the Joan Sutherland Theatre Sydney Opera House. Check the website for performance times.
Production photography Pia Johnson and Neil Bennett
