Tick, Tick… BOOM!

3.5 stars

Before there was Rent, there was 30/90. Wait a second. Let me start again. Before there was Rent there was Boho Days, a… solo rock monologue? Ah, here we go. Before there was Rent, there was 30/90, which was renamed to Boho Days and finally to tick, tick… BOOM!, an autobiographical solo rock monologue created and performed by the late Jonathan Larson and then posthumously reworked into a three-actor stage musical. Convoluted history aside, tick, tick… BOOM! has been receiving a lot of attention of late, a surprise given its relative obscurity. In fact, Netflix has recently announced its own adaptation of the musical with none other than Hamlet extraordinaire, Lin-Manuel Miranda, set to direct.

From the moment the lights dim and the story begins, it is easy to understand why a musical set in the 1990s still strikes a chord with the audience of today. Over a background of incessant clockwork ticking, the main character, Jon (Alex Lodge) introduces himself and explains that the sound we hear is the sound of his mounting anxiety. a steady countdown to an inevitable explosion. Immediately, I recognise the image before me: a young man shaking with nervous energy, eyes darting around looking for some semblance of security, desperate for a change or a big break. Forget the 1980s – this is peak millennial anxiety.

And then Lodge breaks into the opening number, the ex-titular 30/90, and if anything could qualify as a BOOM!, this was it. Attacking the fricative consonants and stops with the aggression of a machine gun, Lodge showcases his immense talent from the get-go. That energy propels him through the whole 90-minute show, injecting spice even in the slower, more melancholic numbers. And if Lodge is here to make an impression, the rest of the cast isn’t going to sit back and let him take all the glory. James Hume as Michael, Jon’s best friend, deftly matches his bassy range to the emotional highs and lows of his character, spinning his honeyed tones from cocky and braggadocious in the comedy duet No More to heartrending and soulful in the mournful Real Life. I find his character and performance more convincing than our often self-involved protagonist. Perhaps it’s because Michael never breaks the fourth wall and speak to the audience like Jon can, the emotional distance adding a layer of vulnerability to his character.

If Lodge is the dominant and distinctive heart notes, and Hume the rich base notes, Georgie Ashford’s Susan rounds off the trio with her lofty top notes that contrast pleasantly against the men. A shame then that her character is so underutilised. In fact, the biggest issue I have with this musical is the way all the women are presented. Susan, Jon’s girlfriend, dreams of moving to the seaside (why are all women in musicals obsessed with settling down at the seaside?) and getting out of the rat race that Jon has trapped them in with his inability to compromise or see beyond his own ambitions. And yet the story almost villainises her for not believing in Jon’s vision or sticking it out until he becomes successful. Unfortunately, all the female characters are either obstacles to Jon’s success or an accessory to his ego. For example, the second number Green Green Dress is a song purely about how attractive Susan looks in a green dress. Although a fun number, it does nothing for the plot and tells us nothing new about the characters aside from Jon’s functioning sex drive. It’s basically a gratuitous sex scene in the form of a song. That’s bad enough on its own, but a closer look at the lyrics might even make you start to wonder about the consent of it all.

And that’s kind of the problem with the whole musical. Even though there are great moments of introspection and pertinent messages that ring true regardless of the time period, there is nothing remarkable or original about the story. It’s a tale as old as time: the archetypal suffering artist, pressured by those around him (and it’s always a him) to conform and give up on his dreams, is saved at the last minute by some lucky twist of fate. Only this time, the story is told by really quite unreasonably talented actors and, oh yeah, they also sing a song about Twinkies. As Jon remarks near the beginning, it’s “hard for people born after 1960 to be idealistic or original”. How true he was! Although he was probably hoping to be an exception, not an example.