Queens, New York is considered the most diverse county in the entire nation, with nearly half of its population foreign-born. It’s no wonder Martyna Majok’s beautifully insightful play, Queens – about a group of undocumented women sharing an illegal basement apartment – is set in the boro. It’s essentially a microcosm of the immigrant experience in the country. It was first produced by Lincoln Center Theater in 2018 and even though it takes place before the worst of Trump’s brutal ICE crackdowns, it resonates deeply as a testament to the tremendous sacrifices migrants must make to make it here.
And yet, as strong as its message is, and as well acted, there are structural problems with the play that undermine its full power. Queens is divided into two acts. In the first half we meet five women from different countries who’ve clearly struggled to get here. Their reasons for leaving their homes are varied but the emotional toll is similar. There’s guilt, regret, fear, disappointment and distrust. They’re all treading water with little hope of that better life they envisioned for themselves. And even though their stories of hardship are compelling, the play lacks forward motion. That may be the point but dramatically it becomes a bit stagnant. It also doesn’t help that the various accents sound alike.
It begins in 2017 as we watch a heavily accented woman named Inna (Julia Lester) confront another woman – a complete stranger named Renia (Marin Ireland) – and then slug her right in the face. Quite a dramatic start but hard to believe what happens next as Inna then asks the black-eyed Renia if she has any rooms to rent and Renia takes her in.
The play quickly jumps back in time 16 years to 2001 as we see Renia, newly arrived in the apartment carrying all her worldly possessions in a plastic bag. She’s introduced to the other women living there: Aamani (Nadine Malouf) from Afghanistan, Pelagiya (Brooke Bloom) from Belarus and Isabela (Nicole Villamil) from Honduras. Later we find out that Renia is from Poland.
As different as they are culturally, their foreignness unites them to an extent. But, living hand to mouth in such close quarters, they are wary of each other. On this particular day, Isabela is packing to return home to Honduras where her mother, who had been caring for Isabela’s young daughter, has taken ill. Thinking about her daughter, Isabela sadly laments “…she might not even remember me at all. Who knows. She have toys that she’s lived with longer than me.”
By Act 2 it becomes clear that mothers and daughters are at the heart of this work. Abandonment, whether intended or not, has a traumatizing effect on each of them. Inna, nicely underplayed by Lester, goes through hell looking for her mother who fled Ukraine many years earlier. New characters are introduced in the second half; and despite the playwright’s obvious efforts to bring the story full circle, the story-telling is muddled. It honestly feels as if we’re getting the abridged version of an epic work and we’re missing key pieces of exposition.
At its best, under Trip Cullman’s direction, the play scores as a moving portrait of women weighed down by crippling loss. Despite the inconsistent accents, the performances are spot on. Bloom’s excellent timing finds honest humor in Pelagiya’s no-BS directness. Villamil’s Isabela wears her knee-jerk hostility like a suit of armor; Nadine Malouf gives Aamani a more tempered demeanor which enables her to rally the women to organize a going away “party,” albeit one without food or music (which they can’t afford). They do dress up for the very first time and the brief festivities give them, and the audience, a welcome reprieve from their dreary existence down there.
Queens is the story of an American tragedy. The lure of opportunity and wealth is a mirage for most who enter this country. And even when the “dream” is attained, it comes at too great a cost. That’s Renia’s sorry tale. Marin Ireland is heartbreaking as the ultimate tragic figure who loses far more than she gains in her pursuit of financial success. Anna Chlumsky has the small but pivotal role as Agata, Renia’s cousin from Poland who appears twice to remind Renia of the toll her extended absence took on the family. Renia’s reckoning comes at the very end: “My regret’s that this world does not think I’m worth. I gave my life to this. And nobody cares. I’m still just as invisible inside these walls like I always was outside.”
There is much food for thought here, but like that cramped apartment in Queens, the play is crowded with too many elements that get lost in the clutter. Majok won the Pulitzer Prize in 2018 for her play Cost of Living. And even though Queens does not rise to that calibre, it is still an important work that deserves our attention. With a little housecleaning and some re-shaping, Queens could easily be award worthy in its next incarnation.
Queens opened November 5, 2025, at City Center Stage I and runs through November 30. Tickets and information: manhattantheatreclub.com
