People all have a very deep-seated desire to belong. Life for many people is an endless quest for the intangible feeling of personal connection and external emotional validation. This is true of all communities, but in a community like the New York bohemians of the late eighties that was so riddled with poverty, terminal disease, and victims of violent discrimination, the depth of that need tends to grow drastically. The feeling of community that tragedy can create is a major theme in Rent, as well as the connection the characters all feel with each other in the face of their adversity. Typically we wouldn‘t think of AIDS as “something that really brings people together”, but the ticking clock hanging over the heads of the afflicted brings out that need to relate to someone who knows the same struggles. While the average person may not be able to personally relate to the depth of that particular need to relate or the severity of those struggles, most people tend to gravitate toward people who experience the same hardships.
Personally, I like to complain about projects and labs with other bio majors and sometimes those late night exam study sessions can lead to lasting friendships. Misery loves company, and so it follows that such extreme misery as the characters in Rent face would breed a profoundly loving bond. This was evident in the scenes following Angel‘s death and Mimi’s near death, when a somber shadow was cast over the group of normally raucous and playful people. Their abrupt shift into depression accentuates the seriousness of the reality of their situation and touches the audience deeply, making everyone realize the nature of the characters‘ bond on a true human level. Although the public is more educated about AIDS and the dangers that come with the bohemian lifestyle than they were in the nineties, the issues that Rent brings to light are still very much alive today for those people.
Poverty and drug use are still major problems facing the urban art community, and though AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases are less of a threat nowadays, they certainly haven’t yet been eradicated. Aside from the practical portions of the story, though, the praising of human connections and the mantra of “measuring your life in love” that Rent brings forward are perfectly applicable to modern society. Though mainstream America may not be looking over shottlders for AIDS and murderous weather conditions, the idea of measuring your life in love rather than measuring it in retweets or followers should ring through the millennial generation.
Besides the insatiable lust for external validation that’s ingrained in much of the modern youth, there has also been a great rise in materialism that has turned many people’s focus toward achieving material “life goals“ and put the idea of monetary wealth on a pedestal, The idea of the bohemians refusing to pay rent is not only an issue of insufficient funds, but could resonate as a refusal to believe that life should be paid for with pieces of paper and that there‘s more worth in loving relationships than there is in status symbols and money. Overall, Rent is an excellent portrayal of the community that forms in the face of tragedy and the resilience of people in the face of overwhelming adversity. Perhaps more importantly, it provides a universal and timeless message of valuing love over money and the ability for love to overcome all obstacles.
