‘Room 104’ Review: ‘Boris’ Is An Immigrant Story…With A Pantless Santa Claus

By Kristin Hunt/Sept. 25, 2017 12:00 pm EST

(Each week, we’ll kick off discussion about Room 104 by answering one simple question: what’s the strangest thing in Room 104?)Room 104 has hosted ghosts, voyeurs, and Mormons. But until this week, no celebrities. Enter Boris, an internationally famous tennis star who’s having an erratic evening. Through his unlikely friendship with a housekeeper, Boris faces some long buried trauma. But not before he dons an unusual costume.

Immigrant Stories

Both Rose and Boris left their homes to build new identities in new countries. Rose never explains why she left Mexico, but all she wants is to secure a green card so she can live in America without fear of deportation. Rose is a (seemingly single) mom, so her anxiety is especially heightened. “If I get it, I’ll feel safe,” she tells Boris. “I’m a Mexican living in the U.S., I’m a slave. They can take me away from my son any time.“When Boris hears this, he’s furious on her behalf, hinting at a similarly scary immigrant experience. As his confession the next morning reveals, Boris left Croatia over horrific circumstances. When Boris was six, the Serbs invaded his neighborhood, bombing the area to bits. They also rounded up his parents and cousins, killing them all. He only survived because he was in an empty pool at the time, practicing his backswing with his uncle. Overwhelmed with guilt, he threw himself into tennis, hoping to justify his existence. But he could not repay the debt he owed his uncle, the “boss” he references. Rose tells him she’s sorry about what happened to his family. “No one’s ever said that,” he says. “We don’t talk about them.“Boris has been carrying an enormous pain he couldn’t share, but so is Rose. In Room 104, they find a safe space to break the silence.

Mind the Nightstand

Early into his drunken evening, Boris stumbles and whacks his head against the nightstand. Although he laughs it off, this is not a gentle fall. It echoes the dramatic final act of “Missionaries,” when Joseph nearly dies from a similar head injury. I don’t know if all Room 104 visitors are this clumsy, but please people: watch out for sharp corners.

‘Room 104’ Review: ‘Boris’ Is An Immigrant Story…With A Pantless Santa Claus

By Kristin Hunt/Sept. 25, 2017 12:00 pm EST

(Each week, we’ll kick off discussion about Room 104 by answering one simple question: what’s the strangest thing in Room 104?)Room 104 has hosted ghosts, voyeurs, and Mormons. But until this week, no celebrities. Enter Boris, an internationally famous tennis star who’s having an erratic evening. Through his unlikely friendship with a housekeeper, Boris faces some long buried trauma. But not before he dons an unusual costume.

What’s the Strangest Thing in Room 104? Pantless Santa Claus

Immigrant Stories

Both Rose and Boris left their homes to build new identities in new countries. Rose never explains why she left Mexico, but all she wants is to secure a green card so she can live in America without fear of deportation. Rose is a (seemingly single) mom, so her anxiety is especially heightened. “If I get it, I’ll feel safe,” she tells Boris. “I’m a Mexican living in the U.S., I’m a slave. They can take me away from my son any time.“When Boris hears this, he’s furious on her behalf, hinting at a similarly scary immigrant experience. As his confession the next morning reveals, Boris left Croatia over horrific circumstances. When Boris was six, the Serbs invaded his neighborhood, bombing the area to bits. They also rounded up his parents and cousins, killing them all. He only survived because he was in an empty pool at the time, practicing his backswing with his uncle. Overwhelmed with guilt, he threw himself into tennis, hoping to justify his existence. But he could not repay the debt he owed his uncle, the “boss” he references. Rose tells him she’s sorry about what happened to his family. “No one’s ever said that,” he says. “We don’t talk about them.“Boris has been carrying an enormous pain he couldn’t share, but so is Rose. In Room 104, they find a safe space to break the silence.

Mind the Nightstand

Early into his drunken evening, Boris stumbles and whacks his head against the nightstand. Although he laughs it off, this is not a gentle fall. It echoes the dramatic final act of “Missionaries,” when Joseph nearly dies from a similar head injury. I don’t know if all Room 104 visitors are this clumsy, but please people: watch out for sharp corners.