Jonathan Larson’s rock musical about arty young New Yorkers living and loving under the shadow of Aids opened off-Broadway in 1996. Inspired by Puccini’s La bohème, it acquired mythological status when Larson died just before opening night aged 35 of an aortic aneurysm. It went on to win many awards and is still playing on Broadway today.

In London it was a different story. Rent hit the West End in 1998 — and flopped, with British audiences and critics failing to respond to its blend of bombast and sentiment. Now it has been reimagined by William Baker, the creative brains behind Kylie Minogue’s transformation from soapstar to gay icon and pop princess, and director of her stage shows. If anyone can give Larson’s musical a hip replacement, it ought to be Baker, along with fellow Kylie collaborator, the musical supervisor Steve Anderson, and a sexy cast including Denise Van Outen and the former Sugababe Siobhan Donaghy.

But the fact is, Rent still can’t quite pay its way.

The songs, apart from a few numbers — notably Seasons of Love and Take Me or Leave Me — are forgettable. The characterisation is slight and the plot lacks focus; for every effective moment there are three of thumping mawkishness. And if Larson intended to present a gritty slice of street life, there’s no new evidence of that here. Baker may have toned down the eyes-and-teeth showbiz bravura, but inhabitants of this Alphabet City are hardly slumming it, on a white multi-levelled set by Mark Bailey, across which famous names who lost their lives to Aids scroll in red neon.

Still, Anderson has done a cracking job of funking up Larson’s score, replacing overweening guitar rock with pumping gay club anthems and diva pop, flavoured with rippling keyboards and electronica. Ashley Wallen’s choreography could be more imaginative, but Baker draws winning performances from his glamorous cast — not least Van Outen as the voracious bisexual performance artist Maureen. In thigh-high boots, leotard and biker jacket, yelling, “Are you having f***ing fun or what?”, she’s like Madonna at her live, ballsy best. Oliver Thornton and Luke Evans bring intensity and a latent homoeroticism to the friendship of the narrator, Mark, and his room-mate, Roger. Yet the only touching relationship is that of Leon Lopez’s brawny Collins and Jay Webb’s adorable and emotionally tough Angel, who succumbs to Aids, in the form of a throng of S&M vampires, in camp, affecting style.

Donaghy, though, disappoints as the heroin-addicted dancer Mimi. Pallid and flame-haired, she has a junkie’s fragility. But she moves stiffly; performing the slinky burlesque number that replaces Larson’s shouty song of seduction she looks as if she’s longing to climb out of her corset and go home.

Overall, this is a flawed product stylishly repackaged. Whether it spawns a new generation of “Renthead” fans remains to be seen. But I suspect Larson wouldn’t have been displeased with the makeover.

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