It's a popular myth that as women near the age of 30, a soft but ceaseless ticking begins to haunt and drive them: the biological clock. But in the play Tick, Tick...BOOM!, as the lead character Jon's 30th birthday nears, he begins to hear a ticking of his own. A metronome beats for him, driving Jon to make a crucial decision between abandoning his dreams to become a "responsible" adult or continuing to live la vie boheme as a struggling composer.

Based loosely on the labors of Jonathan Larson to get his now-smash hit, makes-the-weepy-eyed-pubescent-girls-swoon musical Rent produced, Tick, Tick...BOOM! asks some of the same questions. Is artistic expression the meaning of life? How much should an artist sacrifice? Is there a time to sell out?

During the course of the play Jon offers this observation: "I've been promising for so long, I'm afraid I'm breaking the fucking promise." He exhibits all the shoulder-shrugging naiveté of a child, and his wardrobe reflects his personality. Bouncing around in black Converse, suspenders, and several shirts, he's messy, his mind on art rather than appearance. Why his khaki pants need to be so tight and short that he looks like Urkel with a panty line, I'm not sure.

When Brian Scharfenberg, as Jon, sings the opening number "30/90," his voice rings sweet. Much of the responsibility for carrying the show's vocals rests on his shoulders. Although his voice remains true to the emotion of each song, he reaches for the higher range, straining his vocal cords at times. Scharfenberg's piercing blue eyes are his most communicative feature, and he is not afraid to fix them on the audience.

It's in "30/90" that Jon reveals his Peter Pan-ic, the desire to remain in Never Never Land, to cling to his childhood dreams. He clings despite the influence of his best friend, Michael, the man who accompanied Jon to New York to pursue his own aspirations as an actor, but who has given up the fight in lieu of becoming a market research bigwig. As played by Thomas Warfield, Michael needs personality. Although Warfield has a decent voice, it tends to disappear in duets and trios.

As Susan, the supportive girlfriend who is starting to hear "that bio clock pounding," Brynn Lucas has a lovely, rich voice in the lower range. Completely unafraid to make weird faces and look downright silly for the sake of her character, Lucas excels at the comedic aspects of her performance.

Early on, director John Haldoupis creates a charming stage picture between Jon and Susan that nicely defines their relationship. Jon sits on the roof, clutching his knees and staring off into the sunrise. Susan, sitting just above him on a milk crate, faces the opposite direction. Together, yet apart. The two have a sparkling chemistry, and are comfortable interacting physically and looking into each other's eyes. Their romantic relationship is believable.

There obvious aural similarities between the sound of Rent and this piece. The musical numbers are largely soulful, searching songs featuring minor chords and dissonant notes. The lighting design feeds into this angst-filled style, featuring lots of spotlights casting shadows onto the faces of actors staring meaningfully off into the unknown. It's a little melodramatic.

Much of the music is great, especially the comedic tunes like "Sunday" and "Therapy." But "Sugar," for example, seems a time filler. The song, which isn't particularly funny or entertaining, feels like a backwards Sesame Street ditty encouraging tooth decay and sucrose bingeing.

You might question if the show's ending is sorrowful or sweet. Truth is, it's a little bit of both. This is a story about the cost of achieving dreams, but achieving them all the same. And, fortunately, Larson left this show behind as a part of his legacy.

Tick, Tick...BOOM! | Through February 10 | Blackfriars Theatre, 28 Lawn Street | $12-$24 | For more information call 454-1260 or visit www.blackfriars.org.