tick, tick…BOOM! – Theatre Tallahassee Production – In Review

I’ve never actually seen Jon Larson’s musical Rent, neither live or the maligned film adaptation, but it’s one of those shows that has had such appeal that it’s hard to ignore even pieces of it by osmosis. Just give me the opening chords of “Seasons of Love” and I’ll know that every year takes five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, the most apathetic way to measure a year.

tick, tick…BOOM! makes for a different sort of musical, in that it’s based an an autobiographical one man show created by Larson, adapted after his death into a three actor production by David Auburn. The story follows Jon Larson in the year 1990, just before his thirtieth birthday. He’s a writer, or at least he’s trying to be. He’s still waiting for his big break. He only owns one belt. It’s not Gucci, but it holds up his pants just the same.

I saw a performance of it just this past weekend at Theatre Tallahassee, a production that in its playbill its director, Naomi Rose-Mock, had written that the choice for a minimalistic and abstract production was meant to emphasize the story’s internal presence, in the mind of Jon Larson. It was performed on Theatre Tallahassee’s smaller studio stage with a backdrop of three vertical panels plastered in torn music sheets and playbill covers. There were crates set on the stage that were sometimes tables and sometimes platforms and sometimes a store counter, moved and turned and stacked as needed only to be separated again.

I’ve seen productions at Theatre Tallahassee that have featured piano accompaniment, but this one also had a guitarist and a drummer to go along with the keyboardist, all three of them set behind the panels. There was a lot of talent on the stage, but it didn’t take long before the singers were lost in the volume of the instruments.

Maybe I was sitting next to one of the speakers, that I can’t say. I can say that I was in spitting distance from the stage and vocals from the opening number as well as parts of “Green Green Dress” were lost against the speakers, which makes me think that maybe the instruments were mixed a bit too loud when considering that in the studio the actors didn’t have microphones. From “Johnny Can’t Decide” onward I didn’t notice that problem anymore, which either means that the instruments stopped drowning out the vocals, or I got absorbed into the story and the performance.

It helped that Conner Fabrega was incredible as Jon Larson, while Tyler Jones and Elyssa Brooks slipped back and forth between multiple roles with ease. The backdrop of torn playbills was only interesting at first, and it wasn’t until later on that I noticed how the lighting was used to cast silhouettes across them. Is it an accident that the silhouette of Jon is cast onto a panel with the torn cover of “One Man” above his shadow?

Jon Larson is the center of the story, but there’s also his friend Michael, a former actor that became a business man, and his girlfriend Susan, a “former” dancer who went on to teach. Jon is presented early on with several choices, but each choice cancels the others out. Does he pursue his creative vision at the expense of his career and his potential family? Does he pursue a career at the expense of his creativity and his girlfriend? Does he follow his girlfriend and leave all potential for a career and his creativity behind?

I admit that a lot of this did hit very close to home. I’m not turning thirty, per se, in fact last year I turned forty. See, I’m a writer, or at least I’m trying to be. I’m still waiting for my big break. I only own one belt. It’s not Gucci, but it holds up my pants just the same.

The questions that Jon has to answer feel like the questions that are already on my mind. I’ve written a novel, three actually, and if this last one doesn’t work out it just will make the motivation to try again harder then the last time. Michael’s choice for a career makes sense, especially considering his situation, and Susan’s choice is understandable, both choices would mean an end to creative ambitions.

While the musical ends after Jon’s workshop, it’s known that the show he was trying to get produced, titled Superbia, didn’t. It’s known that the next show he workshopped did get picked up. It is known that the idea of turning forty, the luxury of it, was not afforded to Jon Larson, as he had passed away in 1996, at the age of 35.

I feel like that’s the ultimate message of the story: making the most of the time you have. Every road is a path to be taken, each valid for their own reasons. You just have to make a choice, and be able to live with it.

And follow through.

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