Maybe you’ve just found yourself at someone else’s work party where you don’t get the banter, and the jokes are a little too ‘in’, or maybe you’re sitting in a theatre Packed to the Rafters with a whole heap of other people who have no idea either – it's not your fault.
Until the 2021 Netflix version, awareness of Tick, Tick… Boom! was probably limited to diehard musical theatre fans, or for the less hardcore, maybe it was there in the shadows of Spotify alongside Rent – a musical you probably have heard of.
Rent is, of course, the show that cemented its creator, Jonathan Larson, in Broadway history. Given he tragically died the night before its off-Broadway premiere at only 35, Larson was never as celebrated in life as he was after his death. Rent would go on to enjoy a full and long-running Broadway production season, earning Larson a multitude of posthumous awards, including a Tony for Best Musical.
And so, with a little more context and the fact that Larson originally penned Tick, Tick… Boom! as a semi-autobiographical ‘rock monologue’ for himself, it’s not a stretch to grasp that this work serves – or has been fashioned to serve – as a prescient and prophetic insight into the creation of his legacy and Rent - a modern take on the 1896 opera La Bohème.
The year is 1990, and Jon, a talented but struggling musical theatre creative, contemplates the future as he approaches his 30th birthday while still pursuing the bright lights of Broadway. Reconstructed after Larson’s death to include some additional cast and characters, this work still feels very much like a one-person odyssey.
Hugh Sheridan takes on the role of Jon, and in promotional content for the show, he spoke plainly about the kind of "resilience and determination" one needs in order to make it in show business, and, well, he certainly knows.
In 2020 Sheridan was subjected to a disgraceful industry ‘own goal’ surrounding his cis-gendered casting in the musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Given Larson fought hard to overcome the brutal and hideous rejection so familiar to theatre folk, it’s impossible not to look at Sheridan on stage and hope that the revolting peer-led pile-on is now a painful but positive source to draw upon in summoning up this character.
Sheridan is good. On the stage, he is responsive, present and incredibly easy to watch. He’s sat long and hard with this character, and it’s clear he knows him intimately – but then there’s this very big singing bit, too. There’s no doubt a solid and very pleasant voice exists, and at times we really hear it, but husky sexiness might also suggest a performer who is working a little beyond their vocal capacity. Irrespective of some shortcomings, Sheridan is giving it his all, and after the shameful Hedwig saga, he really deserves this gig.
Orbiting around Jon and trying to find some colour to fill their painfully thin outlines are a few additional characters. Finn Alexander plays Jon’s best friend and flatmate Michael, and the fabulous Elenoa Rokobaro, his girlfriend Susan. Despite her character’s limitations, Elenoa gets the show’s best number and, indeed, has the best voice on stage. Overall, this is a worthy, hardworking and enthusiastic company.
Tick, Tick… Boom! isn’t a big show. The company is small, the band is slim and staging-wise, there’s not a lot going on. The set designer Christina Smith has created an open workable space for the performers with a couple of unremarkable brick walls hinting at New York and angled in such a way as to maybe suggest confinement.
There’s an irony in seeing a show of this scale in one of Melbourne’s major receiving houses, while the protagonist discusses the state of Broadway theatre in the ‘90s – big-budget musicals charging big-budget ticket prices!
Given this iteration was assembled after Larson's death, we’ll never know if what he originally performed himself was a lot less earnest and (hopefully) a lot less self-indulgent than it feels now.
In tipping his hat to both Sondheim and Sunday in the Park with George, Larson succeeds only to highlight a stark contrast between these respective works and, indeed, between himself and the composer, who was also his idol. Sondheim had the sophistication to make his analogous point about creative endeavour by writing from the perspective of another artist rather than from his own.
With a couple of decent songs to tap along to, Tick, Tick… Boom! isn’t unenjoyable. Essentially though, it’s an angst-ridden portal into the psyche of a struggling composer, and just like finding yourself a stranger at that office party, you’re left with two options: lean into it or leave early.