Theater Review: The Roommate at Albany Civic Theater: No Regrets. No Apologies. No Intermission

Theater Review: The Roommate at Albany Civic Theater: No Regrets. No Apologies. No Intermission. By Joanna Palladino

Albany Civic Theater’s production of The Roommate by Jen Silverman, directed by Benita Zahn, is an intimate, sharply observed study of reinvention. In this staging, transformation is not only spoken — it is scored.

The Roommate centers on Sharon, a recently divorced Midwestern woman in her 50s whose son has left home and whose life has settled into predictable quiet. In a spontaneous act of disruption, she advertises for a roommate. Enter Robyn — a brash, guarded New Yorker with a complicated past. What begins as cautious cohabitation evolves into a friendship and ultimately an awakening. As Sharon interrogates the life she has dutifully lived, the play poses a provocative question: Who are we allowed to become when we stop performing the roles everyone expects?

Presented without intermission, this two-person show depends entirely on performance, pacing, and atmosphere. Albany Civic Theater’s production understands that every element must carry weight.

Kathleen Carey’s Sharon is electrifying. Much like Mia Farrow in the Broadway production, Carey crafts a transformation that is incremental, intelligent, and utterly believable. Her early Sharon is restrained — posture careful, voice measured, politeness almost reflexive. But beneath that composure flickers a spark.

Carey lets us see a glimpse of that spark before Sharon fully does.

As the evening unfolds, each risk Sharon takes feels genuinely dangerous. Each laugh carries surprise. Each moral boundary crossed lands with both terror and exhilaration. By the final stretch, Carey radiates a daring that feels earned, not imposed. It is riveting work — layered, fearless, and emotionally precise. She commands the stage with quiet control and then gradually detonates that control in the most satisfying way.

Tanya Gorlow’s Robyn is the perfect destabilizing force — charismatic, guarded, unpredictable. Her sharp edges and flashes of vulnerability create a dynamic tension that keeps the room charged from first exchange to final beat.

Of special note is the sound design and board operation by Baruch Rainey (with consultation by Barry Streifert).  Rainey’s sound design functions as emotional architecture rather than ornament.

Before the first line is spoken, the pre-show selections establish the thematic terrain: Madonna’s “Material Girl,” Kool & The Gang’s “Ladies Night,” and Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman.” Identity as performance. Female solidarity. Autonomy declared. These songs are not nostalgic filler — they are statements.

Layered among them are selections that deepen the emotional palette. Sidney Bechet’s “Si Tu Vois Ma Mère” (“If You See My Mother”) drifts through the space with wistful longing. On one level, it evokes Sharon’s maternal identity and the gravitational pull of family expectation. Yet in this context, it also resonates ironically. Sharon is no longer only someone’s mother; she is a woman in the unsettling process of becoming something beyond that role. The melody lingers like a memory of who she has been — even as she steps outside of it.

Édith Piaf’s “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” (“No, I Regret Nothing”) operates as a thematic propulsion. Its defiant refusal of apology mirrors Sharon’s gradual shedding of moral rigidity. The possibility of living without regret — without apology — becomes radical.

Patti Smith’s “Dancing Barefoot” adds restless vulnerability, an edge, and perhaps a bit of foreshadowing, echoing Robyn’s energy.

The brilliance of the design lies in restraint. Silence is protected. In moments of confrontation or confession, the absence of sound amplifies tension. In an intermission-less production, pacing is everything, and here the sound cues shape rhythm almost invisibly.

And then comes the final release.

As the play concludes, Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” lands not as kitsch, but as reclamation. After watching Sharon peel away inhibition and fear, the song reframes the evening. Joy becomes defiance. Fun becomes courage.

Rainey’s entire playlist includes:

Pre-show

• Respect – Aretha Franklin
• Girl from North Country – Bob Dylan
• Cold as Ice – Foreigner
• Mysterious Ways – U2
• Material Girl – Madonna
• Ladies Night – Kool and the Gang
• I am Woman – Helen Reddy
• I Kissed a Girl – Katy Perry
• So Far Away – Carole King
• All the Woman I Am – Reba McIntyre
• Smart Girls – Weezer
• Feel Like a Woman – Shania Twain
• You Light Up My Life – Carole King

 

Musical Selections during Performance

• Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien – Edith Piaf
• From a Distance – Bette Midler
• Dancing Barefoot – Patti Smith
• i Tu Vois Ma Mere – Sidney Bechet
• Girls Just Want to Have Fun – Cyndi Lauper

 

The rest of the production team should also be recognized. Peter Kantor’s set design creates a grounded, lived-in domestic space that makes Sharon’s evolution feel immediate and believable. Set construction and decoration — Kantor alongside Kat Fronheiser, Kevin McNamara, Nate Beynon, K. Lindsay Shoen, Michael McDermott, and Jennie Sinnott — provide texture and authenticity. Oona Newman’s lighting design shifts mood with subtle precision, complementing the emotional arc without overpowering it. Dawn Harris’s detailed props enrich the realism of the environment. Stage Manager Jackie Amilivia maintains seamless pacing throughout the uninterrupted performance. Producer Barbara Davis and Assistant Producer Kevin McNamara anchor the effort, while Assistant Director Don Paul Shannon supports Zahn’s cohesive vision.

Under Benita Zahn’s direction, the production trusts stillness. It trusts language. And it trusts the audience.

Albany Civic Theater’s The Roommate is a study in late-life awakening that feels intimate yet expansive. Kathleen Carey delivers a performance as riveting and finely calibrated as any professional staging, capturing the trembling thrill of becoming someone new.

By the time Cyndi Lauper’s anthem kicks in, Sharon is no longer orbiting obligation. She is writing her own rules.

No regrets.

No apologies.

And absolutely no intermission.

Performance dates are:

Feb 13, 14, 15, 20, 21, 22, 27, 28,
Mar 1 2026
Fri & Sat 7:30 • Sun 3:00

Tickets are available online through the Albany Civic Theater website, visit https://www.tickettailor.com/events/albanycivictheaterinc/2006221

for more information.

Albany Civic Theater is located at:
235 Second Avenue
Albany, NY 12209

 

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