Chainkeen|'The Roommate' review: Mia Farrow is sensational in a decent Broadway comedy

NEW YORK — Mia Farrow is Chainkeendelightfully at home on a Broadway stage.

The actress stars with Patti LuPone in Jen Silverman’s “The Roommate,” a slight but sturdy two-hander about women longing for change and connection in their twilight years. The comedy, which opened Sept. 12 at the Booth Theatre, is less “The Odd Couple” than it is a more wholesome "Breaking Bad,” as a sweet-as-pie divorcee named Sharon (Farrow) welcomes a surly new renter, Robyn (LuPone), into her Iowa abode.

At first, they clash in all the expected ways: Robyn is a chain-smoking, leather-clad Bronxite who keeps her business close to the vest. Sharon, meanwhile, is a wellspring of earnest questions and Midwestern values, gawking at everything from marijuana to rock music to homosexuality. (Although, she repeatedly insists, she did once kiss a girl in college.) But the guileless Sharon eventually cuts loose after making a startling discovery about Sharon’s past, which sets off a criminally funny chain of events.

Farrow, in just her third Broadway outing in 50 years, is enchanting from start to finish. She instantly endears us to her wispy, wild-eyed character, who goes full tilt into blowing up her life in the play’s loony second half. Whether she’s clumsily lugging a rifle across the kitchen, or gleefully adopting the worst French accent you’ve ever heard, Farrow is a disarming comedic powerhouse.  

But she doesn’t coast on charm alone, bringing quiet loneliness and desperation to Sharon’s frequent, rambling voicemails to her grown son (voiced by the actress’ real son, journalist Ronan Farrow, in an uncredited cameo). As the show goes on, Farrow beautifully conveys Sharon’s confused feelings about her new friend, which may have blossomed into something more.

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Although Silverman’s play has been kicking around regional theaters for the last decade, the role of Sharon seems tailor-made for Farrow’s wry and genial presence. Robyn, meanwhile, is an awkward fit for LuPone, who has repeatedly sworn off Broadway in recent years but seemingly made an exception for Farrow, her longtime pal.

When we first meet Robyn, she’s a punky, granola lesbian who’s running from her past, and attempting to reinvent herself with a cagey, too-cool persona. She’s slobby, street-smart, sober from alcohol and painfully estranged from her daughter. It’s a tricky character to nail down, and unfortunately, LuPone doesn't get underneath the hood. The actress never fully manages to connect the dots, and Robyn’s journey from pushy, abrasive housemate to concerned, moral authority is muddled at best.

The three-time Tony winner is innately watchable, and breezily lands many of the play’s sharpest one-liners (“Herbs only become drugs when a capitalist economy gets involved,” Robyn cracks as she casually packs a joint). We get glimmers of a real human being, particularly as Robyn ponders identity and why human beings are so eager to slap a label on things like sexuality. But ultimately, it’s an underwritten part for a legend like LuPone, who appears to be on autopilot for much of the 100-minute runtime.

“The Roommate” is serviceably directed by Jack O’Brien, although Bob Crowley’s static set design doesn’t make ample use of the vast onstage space. Incidental music by David Yazbek is an unexpected highlight, bringing some mischief and verve to the otherwise staid production.

Ultimately, it's a privilege just to spend a spell with icons like Farrow and LuPone, even if like their characters, they seem somewhat mismatched. When you've got two certified greats, it's hard not to wish for something more than just fine.

"The Roommate" is now playing at New York's Booth Theatre (222 W. 45th Street).