When you sleep in a hotel for weeks instead of days, for fortnights rather than nights — when you reside, fully moved-in, rather than merely stay in a hotel — you begin to notice things that typical, ephemeral guests do not. When the staff here, at the Hotel Commonwealth (500 Commonwealth Ave., Boston) smile, they smile sincerely. The bellhops know my name. The maintenance guy – Paul, an Irish fellow – knows his stuff, particularly plumbing. The A/C really does go down to 50 degrees, and it takes about 10 minutes to get there. The lavish floral arrangements in the lobby – sometimes lilies, sometimes sunflowers – change weekly. The menu at Great Bay – the award-winning restaurant beside the lobby – changes daily. The wallpaper throughout the hotel is Italian. The artwork is original. And my filigreed armoire, with dovetail joints and polished brass fittings, is from the Sultanate of Oman.
Officially, the HoCo (as we long-term residents affectionately call it) is a “four and a half star luxury hotel,” putting it at the upper end of upper-end hotels in Boston. Technically, only four hotels in the city (all prestigious, pompous, proud and prodigal) lay claim to the maximum five-star status bequeathed by the AAA. The HoCo, then, ranks #5 in Beantown – and for anywhere from $200 to $350/night, it well ought to. But what merits those four and a half stars?
The HoCo staff will tell you that a premier hotel features top-notch service and products – and the hotel stands by its words. It offers standard dry cleaning and laundry services, room service, and knowledgeable concierges. In addition to the foreign furniture and wallpaper, the hotel treats guest with French soaps and lotions from L’Occitane, and plush towels by Frette. The hotel also features dedicated phone line in each room – so your callers don’t have to go through the concierge every time they want to reach you. It’s a nice, and rare, touch.
Because the HoCo is only a few months old, it doesn’t suffer from the problems that plague the regal, old-fashioned hotels like the Fairmont Copley Plaza (built in 1912), the Ritz-Carlton (1927), or the Wyndham, (1928). The elevators here are fast, strong, and reliable, and the rooms are generally larger, and better equipped than those built 75 years ago — with fast internet connections and plenty of power outlets. And the windows here, though they don’t open, are soundproof enough to keep out everything from Kenmore square traffic to Bruce Springstein’s show.
So why is the Hotel Commonwealth short half a star? Because it doesn’t offer any of those little extra perks offered by the five-star hotels. You won’t find a pool or hot tub at the HoCo. (Only two swanky Boston hotels have pools: Boston Harbor, and the Collonade – where the rooftop pool is now, unfortunately, closed for the season). You won’t find massage therapists, hairdressers, and a 2003 Mercedes at your disposal (try the Ritz-Carlton). Nor will you enjoy fireplaces, roof decks, and heated towel racks (try 15 Beacon Street) or Rivolta linens and custom-made king-size mattresses (try the Four Seasons) or, for that matter, floor-to-ceiling windows and goose-down comforters (try Nine Zero).
When you live in a hotel for such a long time, you also become attuned to the feel of the hotel – and because the Hotel Commonwealth is such a recent addition to Boston, it doesn’t have the same established, institutional character as the classic hotels. If the HoCo’s faux façade didn’t give it away, then its location should. Kenmore Square is great if you want to see the Citgo sign close-up, or go to a Sox game around the corner at Fenway Park – but it’s certainly not in the heart of Boston. Come to think of it, I can’t figure out who, exactly, would choose to stay here. Maybe the Hotel Commonwealth catches folks who were unable to book rooms at the bigger, more expensive, more convenient hotels. Maybe the HoCo is Boston’s nicest backup hotel.
There’s nothing wrong, per se, with the Hotel Commonwealth, except that it doesn’t offer anything new or unique. Indeed, it is in perfect order, but the order exudes blandness. And that’s the biggest gripe I have with the HoCo – it’s so middle of the road that it lacks personality. It has no ego. In many ways, the hotel seems an homage to the bigger, more expensive, more ornate hotels, yet in many others, it’s yearning to be modern, fast, and sharp. By not exuding the real charm of one or the other, the HoCo almost aggressively lacks hipness – which in this day and age is nothing special, like a popular chain restaurant. And who wants to pay a few hundred dollars a night for nothing special?

- Jonny Waldman, a graduate student at BU, lives in the Hotel Commonwealth, along with 87 freshmen, because BU overbooked its on-campus dorms this semester.