If These Walls Could Talk

HBO anthology series "Room 104" peers into the lives of different hotel guests in each episode, who have vastly varied reasons for checking in.

Sep 27, 2017 at 11:55 am
click to enlarge Sarah Hay dances in an episode of HBO’s "Room 104." - Photo: Jordin Althaus
Photo: Jordin Althaus
Sarah Hay dances in an episode of HBO’s "Room 104."

Hotels are such curious spaces. Luxury lodging aside, the standard motel is designed so each room looks identical. You’ve got your too-firm or too-lumpy bed (Goldilocks need not apply), a tiny bathroom with the sink on the outside, an outdated TV and bland decor — and that’s the same in almost any city. But the motel room serves wildly different purposes for the guests that briefly call it home. And once they check out, the room retains its original form, nary a drop of evidence from yesterday’s inhabitants. (At least, we hope.)

A single nondescript motel room is the common thread shared between installments of Room 104 (11:30 p.m. Fridays, HBO), an anthology series that utilizes the format to its full benefit. While seasonal anthologies are a dime a dozen (American Horror StoryAmerican Crime StoryFeud),Room 104’s episodic anthology formula takes viewers on a new voyeuristic voyage every week.

Just like real hotel guests, the characters in each episode have vastly varied reasons for checking in. A pair of Mormon elders crashes there after a day of missionary work. A woman in crisis takes refuge, hiding out from her family and life itself. A couple acts out their kinky fantasies with a pizza guy. Room 104 explores the simultaneous impermanence and ubiquity associated with this space — it’s a blank slate, making it the perfect setting for a show to play with different actors, storylines, time periods and genres. 

These vignettes range in genre from romantic comedy to psychological drama to straight-up horror — there’s even a beautiful episode told through interpretive dance without any dialogue. There are some hits and misses — “The Knockadoo,” involving a cult, repressed childhood trauma and lobotomies, was over-the-top to the point of being difficult to watch. But no matter the story, however silly or serious, there’s an authenticity to the characters that really draws the audience in. For example, one might expect the young, naive Mormons to be an easy target for ridicule. And there are humorous bits, to be sure. But as the guys begin to discover sexuality and sin, it’s a heartfelt and genuine look at the questioning of their beliefs.

This realness is a hallmark of creators Jay and Mark Duplass. Champions of the mumblecore film movement — a genre that employs natural acting and dialogue and often improvisation — they’re no strangers to exploring both the bizarre and mundane. Either as the Duplass Brothers or individually, they have written, directed, produced or starred in oddball flicks like Safety Not GuaranteedCyrus and The One I Love, but also honest observational projects like their previous HBO series Togetherness. Their handling of the wild and the relatable is blended to perfection in these stories. And in this format, the Duplass Brothers get to flex their skills, using every crayon in the box. This means one week you may find a babysitter battling a demon child and the next you’re traveling back to 1997, watching a young man try to instruct his mother on how to use a computer and the internet for the first time — all over the phone.

Room 104 has limitless boundaries in terms of storytelling, yet the setting confines its subjects in such tight quarters that the show requires a mastery of cinematography, choreography and direction to work. It never feels cramped or congested — unless the episode calls for that feeling.

They’ve assembled a fantastic group of actors to tell these tales: MADtv’s Orlando Jones, Amy Landecker (Jay’s co-star in Transparent), Nat Wolff (Death Note), Melonie Diaz (Fruitvale Station) and James Van Der Beek, who is suddenly everywhere again like it’s 1999. The format offers the opportunity to snag up established stars or showcase emerging talent.

HBO may be onto something with the idea of quirky 30-minute anthologies. I’m really looking forward to the return of its comedy High Maintenance, in which a nameless New York City pot dealer accommodates a unique collection of eclectic clients in each episode — an excellent complement to this series. And with Room 104’s renewal for a second season, the Duplass Brothers will have ample opportunities to craft inventive new tales of motel guests, keeping us in the audience guessing each time we check in.


CONTACT JAC KERN: @jackern