It’s hard judging the movie adaptation of a musical you don’t know, when the original has been a Broadway hit for nine straight years. All I knew of Rent was the Seasons of Love song I heard a few years ago at a friend’s, and it had immediately been imprinted in my memory. A good sign, right? A few days ago, I downloaded the movie’s trailer, and it was that song again, in its entirety, and it worked just as well as in my memory. Still a good sight. And, today, in the (rather deserted, not like in the U.S.) theater, the movie opened on the same sequence, the same song. And… that’s when the trouble began.

That prologue is just an announcement of things to come: uninspired, illustrative directing. Ensemble shots. Close-ups for solos. Ensemble shots. More ensemble shots with cranes and dollies. I was much less moved by the song (even though it was the same soundtrack and images as the trailer) watching it performed on the silver screen rather than in a tiny Quicktime window, because what works on my computer screen (music comes first, picture only has to move in sync) isn’t what you expect to see in a theater: spectacle. Sitting in the dark with big speakers around you, you realize much more acutely that this show is meant to be live. In short: if you want to see this, buy the DVD.

Or better rent it. Because there’s not only the movie adaptation, but the original play too. And, even though I wouldn’t want to judge it from a movie, the worst flaws aren’t specific to the adaptation. Such as the songs, which are incredibly heterogenous, style- and quality-wise (a few good ballads, but Seasons of Love is in no way representative of the rest). Such as the fact that those mildly anarchist artists manage to take themselves so seriously, even when they’re singing La Vie Boheme, that amazingly self-appreciative hymn to the play’s author and his friends (and do you think it’s a coincidence that he died right after the final dress rehearsal? he’d just finished writing his own epitaph!). Or the last scene, which… which… oh god, there are no words for that kind of crap.

From the very first number (which isn’t much less ridiculous than La Vie Bohème, but at that point you just assume the writer had some kind of brain fart) I got the diffuse feeling that Rent was just a Musical for young, rebellious dummies. And very few numbers managed to raise the bar a bit.

Of course, it probably doesn’t help that actors are ten to fifteen years too old for their parts — sure, hiring the original cast is a nice touch, but it doesn’t make it any more realistic. La Vie Boheme would still be ridiculous if it were sung by twentysomething Felicity extras, but at least it’d be somewhat believable.