Iowa City. Now. Sharon (Mia Farrow) is a 65 year old, divorced housewife whose life is complacently small and colorless. New roommate Robyn (Patti Lupone), from the Bronx, is sharp-tongued, free thinking, and streetwise; to Sharon an exotic and therefore exciting woman.
In their first conversation, Sharon comments the Bronx must be dangerous assuring Robyn, “It’s mostly safe here except for the tornadoes.” The new arrival declares she’s a lesbian (with an ex-husband) and a vegetarian. Wide-eyed Sharon responds with supportive babbling. “I’m a slam poet and I grow things,” Robyn says when asked what she does. Again, Sharon expresses enthusiastic interest. What will the New Yorker do in Iowa? She might keep bees or raise sheep. Uh huh.
Patti Lupone and Mia Farrow
Sharon calls herself retired (pause) from marriage and a full time mother to her son in Park Slope, Brooklyn, with whom she stays in constant (oppressive) contact. A designer, he’s presumed gay but is
not, she protests, despite obvious signs. Her only social interaction is a “reading group,” not “book club,” named thus because its founder “says everything just a little wrong because she comes from Idaho.”
The two couldn’t be more different, but adapt surprisingly well. Sharon is starved for company and stimulation. Robyn, solitary by necessity, maternally encourages her landlady to open up. Sharon tries marijuana. Farrow is adorable. Next scene there are pot plants on the window sill. A small business develops.
Patti Lupone and Mia Farrow
Things really change when Sharon discovers Robyn is a grifter, a past she’s trying to shake…and perceives danger as adventure. Perfunctory with instructions, Robyn nonetheless shepherds Sharon’s nascent attempts at a con. To both women’s surprise, though awkward, the scam is successful. Sharon is palpably thrilled. Robyn warns her how addictive the practice can be. The unexpected outcome of Sharon’s first online-secured date underlines her being drawn to risk. Ultimately the Iowan seems to fall in love with her roommate. Expressing it, however…
The play’s alternate scenes and blackouts unfortunately keep emotion from sustaining. That overzealous audience applauds after every vignette doesn’t help. In fact, the actors present themselves for adulation before the play begins, ostensibly not to interfere. It doesn’t work.
Patti Lupone and Mia Farrow
Farrow and Lupone play to expectations, each a bit more exaggerated than necessary. Farrow has terrific fun with both comic timing and physicality. Small stage business is skillfully executed. The performer is a familiarly naturalistic waif. Lupone is perhaps heavier than need be to personify cynicism and present contrast. Pacing is deft. (Director Jack O’Brien)
The spare, dun colored kitchen has not a jot of decoration, not even a wall clock. It’s oak, grey and white looks almost Shaker, personification of its inhabitant. Video sky, clouds and moon work nicely seen through the house frame unobtrusively setting the hour. (Designer Bob Crowley)
David Yazbeck’s incidental music is so well suited, we’re barely aware of it. There’s no credit for costume. Sharon’s is apt, Robyn’s ugly. The latter’s wig looks fake as well as being unflattering. (Robert Pickens and Katie Gell)
Photos by Matthew Murphy
The Roommate by Jen Silverman
Directed by Jack O’Brien
Booth Theatre
222 West 45th Street
