By Ben Rusnak, First Year Economics
What does death mean to us, and what parts of ourself do we leave behind when we die? These are all questions posed by The Room Next Door - a haunting film about mortality and what it means to be alive, both for us and those we love.
Directed by Pedro Almodóvar, and his first English-language feature film, The Room Next Door follows Ingrid, a bestselling author, as she reconnects with her old friend Martha, a former war photographer, who is now suffering from stage 3 cervical cancer. Fearing a painful end, Martha gets hold of a euthanasia pill and asks Ingrid to stay by her side in the few weeks before, and after, she uses it.
Larger than life, Martha’s character has an accepting attitude towards death from the start, whereas Ingrid is more sensitive. Portrayed by Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore, these characters take us on a journey through their shared history, while facing the uncomfortable knowledge that death is close.
When discussing her illness, Martha speaks candidly about euthanasia, allowing the film to explore how both society and faith interact with such a controversial treatment. With the current discussion to legalise euthanasia in the UK, The Room Next Door is not only emotionally impactful but deeply relevant.
Visually, the film is stunning in its delicacy - using minimalist shots to reflect the simplicity of the story. Almodóvar’s use of colour is intelligent - at times, blanketing the screen with soft tones; and contrasting the melancholy atmosphere with vibrant colour at other times. This perhaps is a nod to the emotional fluctuation between hope and despair that defines Martha’s journey.
The use of expansive natural landscapes, as well the towering New York skyline provides a harsh reminder of the infinite world that stretches beyond the story, and beyond Ingrid and Martha, subtly hinting that individual death, although emotionally taxing, is only a small part of the larger human experience.
The film’s score manages to pull these themes together well. A haunting yet simple melody, it adds an emotional touch that is felt throughout, amplifying moments of silence and allowing scenes to flow.
The Room Next Door has a very clever way of building tension in moments of simplicity, leaving us in a constant state of suspense. The unpredictability of Martha’s choice to end her life imposes a tension that is unspoken but practically tangible in every scene.
This intensity doesn’t just come from a fear of the inevitable but from the uncomfortable questions that the film asks: what does it mean to die on our own terms, and how are we remembered by those we leave behind?
The final scene solidifies these ideas perfectly with the introduction of Martha’s daughter, who is a strong reminder that we live on in the memories and mannerisms of those we leave behind. This scene was both simple beyond words and painfully beautiful. It is this juxtaposed sense of discomfort and peace that left me in a state of contemplation upon finishing the film.
It needs to be said though that The Room Next Door is let down by its dialogue, which, particularly in the first half, feels overly scripted. Conversations of undisguised exposition often interrupt intimate scenes, making it feel as though the film is trying to push us towards a specific meaning rather than letting it unfold naturally.
In the film’s opening moments, there are flashback moments that verge on melodrama, putting the film’s tone into question. Rather than deepening the characters, these scenes distract from the story. The excessive exposition, at times, hinders the development of our main characters, which was a noticeable shortfall given that the story relies heavily on the development of their relationship.
On the whole, however, Swinton and Moore carry the film through its weaker moments. Where the script fails, they succeed at enriching their characters with a deep sense of humanity.
So while The Room Next Door has its flaws, it is definitely a memorable experience, exploring the chill of looming mortality. It is a film that asks many uncomfortable questions but does not attempt to answer them, allowing its audience to sit in the discomfort of reality. If you’re like me, you’ll leave the cinema with a sense of existentialism, feeling emotionally confronted but, at the same time, somewhat hopeful.
A thought-provoking meditation on mortality, this film is worth a watch for anyone interested in the complexities of living, and leaving.
What were you feelings about Almodóvar's The Room Next Door?
