The Las Vegas Hilton rents ‘Rent’

Kimberley McGee

Sunday, Oct. 24, 1999 | 10:13 a.m.

What: "Rent."

When: 8 p.m. daily, plus 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday matinees, Wednesday-Nov. 7 (dark Nov. 1).

Where: Las Vegas Hilton Theater.

Cost: $73.50 and $62.50 for 8 p.m. shows; $57 and $46 for weekend matinees; $20 orchestra seat tickets available three hours before show time every day, limit of two orchestra tickets per person.

Information: Call 732-5755.

It's a 2 1/2 hour ride through the tragedy of other people's lives with a surprising twist of joy -- and it's one of the biggest hits on Broadway.

The pulsing rock musical "Rent" opens Wednesday at the Las Vegas Hilton Theater and plays through Nov. 7.

The play, winner of both the Tony award and the Pulitzer Prize, is a contemporary view of Giacomo Puccini's "La Boheme," in which a group of starving artists live in New York's East Village while hungering for love and struggling to make peace with their inner demons. The group forms an informal family trying to survive the HIV-haunted '90s and achieve that one true thing in life that makes it all worthwhile.

Christian Mena plays the lead character, Roger, who has not left his apartment in the six months since his girlfriend killed herself, after they both found out they were HIV positive. Roger is a musician in denial of the death sentence he has been handed, yet is motivated by it to write one incredible song before his demise.

"He tries not to think of the disease, he just wants to write this song and that is the motivating factor (in his life)," Mena says.

The play grips the audience in the throes of that life and death dilemma to let them witness playwright Jonathan Larson's view of the beauty -- even in tragedy -- of life.

"The whole play is all about: living life to its fullest, there's no day like today and measuring your life in love," Mena says. "It's not what you own that makes you, but the person you are."

Mena plays Roger as a jaded bad boy who is not numb from his tragic fate, just tired of hurting and ready to sprint if anyone gets too close. Completing the perfect song would at least make all the pain worth something.

"Every artist, whether painter or poet, everybody really can relate to that -- if you can do one good thing in your life that you can be remembered by, that you can look back on and say, 'if I did nothing else, I did this.' "

The fear and powerlessness his character experiences is something many have felt, especially those faced with their own mortality at a young age. The choice is to go out laughing or languishing in despair.

"I've had friends who are HIV positive, and I really looked (at them)," Mena says. "They knew they were on their last leg and they never really came to grips with the fact that they were dying."

The show's doomed character, Angel, a transvestite drummer who is also HIV positive, plays his life out with grace and revelry to the very end. "A lot of people never get to that state, they die bitter, jaded and resentful of whatever it was that threw this disease on them," Mena says.

Fans -- the most avid ones are called Rentheads -- seem to leave the theater with a "Rent" hangover, kicking the play around in their minds until they have to sit down and write a letter to the cast and share their thoughts.

"They write you and tell you how the play affected them as people or a sad situation in their life and how 'Rent' helped them through it," Mena says. "It's such a therapeutic play for the audience and the actors," Mena says.

Before "Rent" Mena enjoyed some success as the front man for the Canadian-based Latin pop band Maracuja. Mena's agent gave the "Rent" producers a tape of him belting rock 'n' roll tunes and he was easily scooped up for the fast-paced rock show. Although acting was not a priority for this Chilean-born singer, he found that this play has added a new dimension to his art and soul.

"To go on stage, release your emotions and give yourself up to the piece in front of (an audience), it makes you discover yourself as a human being," Mena says.

Speaking and singing the words of playwright Larson, who died of heart failure the day before the January 1996 premiere in New York, gives peace to Mena. "If you have a problem and you go on stage, the words you are singing help you in your own life," Mena says. "It's a reality check every time you go on stage."

Larson seems to lurk in the depths of the play's life-affirming message.

"One of the reasons the play makes such an impact is that, here's a guy (Larson) who struggled for 15 years to put this play together, he really is the epitome of the struggling artist," he says, adding that Larson's death provided a bittersweet lesson and an eerie irony.

"That truly illustrates every message in the show," Mena says. "How can you disregard the message when it is so clearly illustrated in his life?"

Mena is one of the original touring members and is close to Larson's family, which he says adds to the whole acting experience. "The best way to get to know a person, besides actually speaking to them, is to see how they impact the people around them," he says. "When you get into people's heads they tell you the things they don't like about them. You get this overall sense of who this person was."

Larson believed in the power of the play as he wrote it and re-wrote it while living the bohemian life in New York. The actors re-live his struggle on stage, as well as their own experiences, as they perform Larson's vision and life's work.

"We can't do the show successfully without having the respect that he had for it," he says. "We sense him a lot, at least I do."

Mark Tynan, production stage manager for the tour, says the cast not only keeps Larson's work alive, but his memory, too.

"When we get a new set of people we all gather around in a circle, which is one of the things they did in the original cast, and there's one number, 'Seasons of Love,' we all sing," Tynan says. "I remind people that Jonathan Larson wrote this and the power is in the community and he wrote about the community."

Larson's uncle carves a wooden plaque for each tour that reads "Thank You, Jonathan Larson."

"The actors before the show will touch the plaque or reflect on the experience they are about to embark on," Tynan says. "It's very grounding and uplifting at the same time."

And, once the cast hits the stage, very rigorous. "It's very draining, physically and emotionally," Tynan says. "The singing is hard, it's the rock style. There's only two ballads and the rest is pretty driving music."

Unlike other theater shows that are based on fantasy, Tynan says this show is new each night as the actors live out their own fears and hopes mirrored in the characters they portray.

"I have an extraordinary cast -- eight times a week, it is still a first-time experience, the tears are real, the emotions are gut-wrenching," Tynan says. "It's been a joy watching this group of people go through that every night without that sense of, 'I've done that a million times before, here's one million and one.' "

The play, he says, is very contemporary and easy to relate to for artists as well as the average cubicle dweller passing time in a middle management position -- it's the constant human struggle to make life mean something.

"I'm constantly amazed at how it affects audiences," Tynan says. "This is one show that really does have the opportunity to affect peoples lives. It allows them to be thankful for what they have."

They get lots of letters from fans who say the show has inspired them to look at life with a bit more respect and awe.

"It allows them to feel not so alone, or allows them to grieve and start to move on," Tynan says. "That kind of response is what is compelling and makes me honored and thrilled to be with the show."

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