Theatre kids, rejoice! Tick, Tick...Boom is here.
Lin Manuel Miranda's directorial debut is a must-see for Broadway fans.
The Short Take:
Lin Manuel Miranda has given theatre kids everywhere a gift: his energetic adaptation of Jonathan Larson’s Tick, Tick…Boom, now available on Netflix. I had some minor concerns about the messaging on genius writers, but anyone who likes musicals — especially Rent — needs to see this. Shocked by how good Andrew Garfield is in the lead role.
Image Credit: Deadline
The Long Take:
Lin Manuel Miranda has been hustling since Hamilton. Between churning out multiple animated features, acting in various films and TV shows — including a Mary Poppins reboot and HBO’s fine but fizzling His Dark Materials series — and adapting his own Broadway hit, In the Heights, I’m not sure how he had time to also direct his first film. But I’m so glad he did. David Sims of The Atlantic says that Tick, Tick…Boom is Miranda’s best work since Hamilton, and I’m inclined to agree. It’s made with such a deep understanding of songwriting, the ups and downs of the creative process, and what makes musical theater a singularly transcendent experience.
An understanding of the creative process is crucial to the success of this film because the source material is a self-reflexive show within a show. Or, more specifically, a musical about writing musicals. The original Tick, Tick…Boom is an unfinished work written by Jonathan Larson before he wrote his smash hit, Rent. The show is autobiographical, committing to song Larson’s own frustrations and anxieties as he tries to finish his first musical, Superbia. To clarify, there are three different real-life Larson musicals referenced in the film: 1.) Superbia, which Larson writes during the story at the center of 2.) Tick, Tick…Boom, and 3.) Rent, which Larson arguably could not have created without having written the other two first. I know that seems like it could get confusing, but the film actually does a pretty good job of keeping track of them all for the viewer.
For most of the film, Larson frantically prepares for a live performance “workshop” of Superbia for a group of Broadway producers, in the hopes that one of them will want to invest. In the process, he ignores overdue bills and loved ones — namely his partner, Susan, and his best friend, Michael — so he might focus on the task at hand. The songs, in addition to narrating Larson’s struggle, comment on life in New York in the 90s. There’s a number called “Sunday” that airs Larson’s grievances as a diner waiter, mocking New Yorkers for being “fools who should eat at home” and taking forever just to drink their decaffeinated tea. Other songs like “Boho Days” and “No More” lovingly complain about what it’s like to have a “revolving door” of roommates in a tiny apartment with illegal space heaters and “faulty wiring.” I can see how some might find the romanticized suffering of starving artists leading a Bohemian Life annoyingly bourgeoisie, but I ate it right up.
Image Credit: Polygon
That’s because enthusiastic people singing about their hopes and dreams and projecting to the back row as they do so releases considerable endorphins in my brain. For reference, I watched a lot of Ryan Murphy’s Glee during its heyday, even though deep down I knew that it wasn’t very good most of the time — especially when characters weren’t singing. Tick, Tick…Boom has that same “choir/drama geeks just trying to make it big” vibe, but with more sophisticated, more satirical writing. “Boho Days,” a song I can’t get out of my head, repeats “This is the life, Bo—Bo—Bo-Bo-Bo….Bohemia” over and over again, and to me this is the film’s anthem. I really enjoy the slice of life in New York aspect of Rent, and I can see how Tick, Tick…Boom is a more playful and more idealistic predecessor. And while the AIDS crisis that devastated New York in the 90s permeates this film and, again, could arguably lay the foundation for a more in-depth reckoning of it in Rent, it’s relegated to minor subplots here. Usually when we unearth unfinished or unpublished work from an artist it can’t hold a candle to any of the more known works. Tick, Tick…Boom can’t quite compete with Rent, but the songs came a lot closer to that level of depth, emotion, and poetry than I would have thought. And more of the songs are catchier than I ever would have expected.
Lin Manuel Miranda is a theatre kid too, and it’s clear that he not only drew from his own experience as a young writer who, like Larson, single-handedly altered the course of Broadway, but from his own musical theater nerdom. Fans of Hamilton or In the Heights will definitely be able to trace Miranda’s influences to Larson in this film. If I were putting together a course syllabus for Lin Manuel Miranda 101, I would probably start with Larson’s work. Easter eggs for Broadway-heads abound as well. There are countless references to other musicals, either in dialogue between characters or through musical sampling in select songs. The most joyous of these Easter eggs is the veritable pantheon of Broadway legends that pop up. The aforementioned number “Sunday” features the highest concentration, with rapid-fire cameos that make me want to go back and rewatch that scene, pausing it so I can verify them all. (“Wait…was that...?”) That sequence and the whole film gives the impression that Broadway is first and foremost a community of not only the like-minded but the like-spirited.
Larson’s original version of Tick, Tick…Boom, in contrast, was a solo affair. Larson performed the entire show from his piano. So Miranda had a lot of room to play with the visual elements of the film, envisioning many fully-formed scenes from scratch because there was no preexisting staging or blocking. He had to actively consider how to visualize what Larson’s songs and monologues exclusively narrate with words. What he chose to do was brilliant. The film cuts back and forth between Larson performing a song or delivering a monologue in the solo concert format and more cinematic imaginings of the same scenes unfolding in real time. Not only was this savvy, but it is exactly what I’m looking for in a film adaptation of a Broadway musical because it takes full advantage of what cinema can do that live theatre cannot. In fact, I could notice this even more than usual here, as the intercutting juxtaposed how a live performer on a stage tells a story so differently than actors being filmed on a set. One is visceral; the other is immersive. Both are magical in their own way.
This is not to say that this production is perfect. I did feel as though the visuals in a couple of scenes looked off. The most egregious of these was the image of Susan standing in front of Jonathan on his rooftop. The scene is tricky because it’s supposed to be his imagination, his envisioning her instead of the actress actually performing the song in the workshop, but it looks very green screen-y and pulled me out of the story. This isn’t to say that I had a problem with the film’s lack of realism. There’s another scene where Larson dives into a pool and, inspired by the tiles below him, gets an idea for the song he’s been working on. The image of musical notation unfurling across the lanes of an old city lap pool was nothing short of stunning. But these big fantastical swings do not always pan out. I felt this way about the film adaptation of In the Heights as well. There are a couple of moments where characters completely break with reality, and at first I was surprised and delighted, only to then realize it looked and felt out of place once the novelty wore off.
The novelty of Andrew Garfield being an incredibly talented singer, on the other hand, never wore off. I had no idea he could sing before this, and I feel as though the trailer didn’t do him justice. His range is impressive, with power and expressiveness to match. And he captured the head-in-the-clouds absent-minded artist perfectly. Whether he’s singing at a piano or jumping around a house party, he gets this frenetic, crazed look in his eyes, like the music has completely taken over. His gloriously fluffy hair helps with this as well, I’m sure. But his head-shaking and tilting create a wholly intense mood. I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention Tony nominee Robin de Jesús’ performance. He brought a grounded warmth to the film, and then stepped up to deliver the most heartbreaking moments later on.
A lot of Oscar pundits have started saying that Andrew Garfield is a viable candidate in the Best Actor race now that he’s (deservingly) getting such rave reviews upon the film’s release. I’m not quite ready to jump on that bandwagon because the Academy historically has not recognized performances in musicals. According to Gold Derby, the premiere prediction site for the Oscars, 25 actors have been nominated for performances in musicals, but only seven have gone on to win. The most recent of these was Joel Grey for Cabaret in 1972. So maybe he gets nominated (and I hope he does), but it’s very unlikely he would dethrone Will Smith or Benedict Cumberbatch. After his moving appearance on Stephen Colbert last night, though, I’d say he’d give an amazing acceptance speech.
Garfield may be incredible, but the writing process is the real star of Tick, Tick…Boom.
[MILD SPOILERS ahead because I’m going to go into detail about some scenes. If you’d like to watch the film fresh and clean, pause here and come back once you’ve seen the film.]
I know I can’t be objective with this take because I teach writing for a living, but, as I said earlier, Miranda’s intimate relationship with writing his own music affords the film authenticity. The way Larson procrastinates and avoids sitting down to write — but then, at the same time, has to clean his apartment before he can clear his head and make any progress — is so accurate. The way he sits down at his clunky old Apple desktop computer and types one word and then deletes and then types again, only to make minuscule changes that continually drag him into creative stagnation. Also accurate. These scenes reminded me of an interview Seinfeld once did with the New York Times because in that interview he proclaims that he’s never typed any of his TV scripts or standup because he doesn’t like how the cursor just blinks at him like, “Whaddaya got?” When Larson does have a breakthrough, he has to ignore everything around him and just stay in the zone, as if his words and music are like bad sushi churning in his stomach, holding him hostage until they finally come out and bring him some relief.
And there are these little details sprinkled throughout that resonated with my experience as a writer and with writing students. Larson carries around a mini-spiral notebook, and compulsively flips it open to jot down an idea, sometimes in the oddest situations. His handwriting takes up the entire frame, mapped onto the scene of Larson writing in the notebook. Again, this is a wonderful use of cinematic visualization. I especially loved how the final song “Louder Than Words” incorporated all these little notes that Larson scratches out throughout the film. It was a perfect illustration of how brainstorming may seem like totally nonsensical chaos, but then eventually comes together in a coherent structure. Trusting in that can be the productivity death of many writers. This was probably my favorite song for that reason.
Image Credit: Boston Globe
I have some concerns about the way Tick, Tick…Boom sanctions writers and artists’ irresponsibly narcissistic behavior, though. Yes, the tuning out of the world because a spark has ignited and the writer needs to get it down before it’s gone does happen. But Larson ghosts his partner when they really do need to sit down and have a relationship-defining conversation. His electricity goes out because he failed to read the multiple late payment notices the company sent him. And he even tells his parents that the reserved seat at his workshop isn’t actually for them. I know it turns out to be for Susan, but, honestly, based on the way the film had portrayed Larson up until that point, I assumed the seat was for Stephen Sondheim, because he is that work-obsessed.
Since everyone is so happy and proud of Larson in the end, the film implies that all this neglect is worth it, but ONLY if Larson is actually a genius. His best friend Michael, as a counterpoint, doesn’t last long as an aspiring actor and “sells out” for a corporate job, and that’s okay because he was only a mediocre actor anyway. When Larson expresses doubts and asks Michael for a job, he tells Larson that he can’t quit because there’s only one of him in the world. Should that really give him the privilege of not paying his bills, practicing personal hygiene, and ignoring the fact that his partner is under a deadline for her job offer? I think exceptionalism for geniuses is not only a double standard but a very slippery slope, and the more I think about the message Tick, Tick…Boom is sending — even if it is a biography of a real-life person who was a genius tragically taken from the world before he could see his masterpiece debut on Broadway — I start to like the film (and by proxy the musical) a little less. Plus, this isn’t how most writers operate in the real world. Many of the ones I know — who are among the best — have families, friends, full-time jobs, and even hobbies. It’s not easy, but they find a way to balance it all and make it work.
It’s easy for me to snap out of it and stop overthinking the themes of this show. I can easily assure myself that it’s just one story about one very talented and famous person, created by another very talented and famous person. It’s easy to let the music take over and revel in the unbridled joy that is musical theater. I’ve already gone back and rewatched parts of the film while writing this review. And I just cannot stop listening to the soundtrack whenever I have the chance. This is the movie musical I’d been waiting for and I didn’t even know it.