Northlight's 'Landladies' paints unsentimental portrait of urban poverty

“Landladies” - ★ ★ ★

More money, more problems, claim some rich folks seeking sympathy for the challenges wealth poses.

But these are circumstances many others would gladly embrace, especially those confronting the more common scenario: no money, more problems. And that is the situation playwright Sharyn Rothstein's characters grapple with in her ever-timely “Landladies,” a Northlight Theatre commission premiering under director Jess McLeod.

Inspired by “Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City,” Princeton University sociologist Matthew Desmond's Pulitzer Prize-winning account of eight impoverished Milwaukee families, “Landladies” centers on the relationship between two women: businesswoman and self-made slumlord Marti (Shanesia Davis) and her impoverished tenant Christine (Leah Karpel), a recently evicted single mom whose minimum-wage, fast-food job makes a decent apartment unaffordable. Orbiting around them is Poet (Julian Parker), Christine's unsettled, newly sober, sometime boyfriend.

We meet Christine as the smartly dressed, swift-talking Marti ushers her into a potential rental: a grimy apartment without a stove or kitchen sink. The window is broken and there's a hole in the floor that opens to a downstairs unit inhabited by an elderly man who's unseen but occasionally heard.

The bright spot in this wretched space is a print of Andrew Wyeth's 1948 painting “Christina's World” taped to the water-stained wall. More on that later.

With no other options and Marti's assurances that she will make the needed repairs, Christine signs the lease. A sort of friendship begins between them, although the extent to which friendship is possible is doubtful, given the power imbalance and Marti's near-total control over Christine's welfare. We're constantly reminded of Christine's precarious housing situation, which is exacerbated by an inconstant schedule that forces her to leave her young daughter with Poet, with whom she has a complicated past.

Hoping for a break on the rent (and maybe some life advice), Christine ingratiates herself to Marti. She agrees to vouch for her to city officials so Marti can obtain permits for a new development. Christine offers to show prospective tenants apartments when Marti's unavailable and she enrolls in a real estate class the landlady recommends.

As for Marti, she's charmed by Christine's daughter, frequently dropping by unannounced with gifts for the girl. She also adopts the role of mentor, advising Christine to “tell the universe what you want and the universe will deliver” and “clean up your life and take responsibility.”

Meanwhile Poet, an easygoing charmer, has worked his way into Christine's good graces (and her bed) against the advice of a skeptical Marti, who turns out to be a dubious role model.

Rothstein's unsentimental portrait of urban poverty works best in its depiction of the neatly ambiguous relationships between characters, all of whom manipulate each other to get what they need.

That said, elements of the play strain credulity and sometimes feel as if Rothstein herself is uncertain of her characters, whose quips occasionally sound like sitcom sound bites.

Fortunately Northlight's production boasts strong performances from McLeod's potent trio: the savvy Davis, whose staccato delivery keeps everyone off balance; Karpel, who seamlessly pairs vulnerability and defensiveness; and the charismatic, emotional Parker.

Back to the tattered Wyeth print.

Rothstein's artful, subtly sentimental reference suggests a link between Christine and Wyeth's inspiration, Christina Olson, a Maine woman whose neuromuscular disease left her unable to walk, forcing her to crawl around the family farm. Wyeth depicts her in meticulously rendered grass, her body inclined toward home.

Wyeth wrote he wanted to “do justice to her extraordinary conquest of a life which most people would consider hopeless.”

Rothstein's Christine faces nearly as arduous a challenge. Burdened by poverty, she still struggles to make a home.

<b>Location:</b> Northlight Theatre, North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, 9501 Skokie Blvd., Skokie, (847) 673-6300 or northlight.org

<b>Showtimes:</b> 1 and 7:30 p.m. Wednesday; 7:30 p.m. Thursday; 8 p.m. Friday; 2:30 and 8 p.m. Saturday; 2:30 p.m. Sunday through April 20. Also 7 p.m. April 7. No 1 p.m. show April 3

<b>Tickets:</b> $30-$88

<b>Running time:</b> About 90 minutes, no intermission

<b>Parking:</b> Free in the lot and parking garage

<b>Rating:</b> For teens and older; contains mature subject matter including strong language and sexual content