2024-10-07
N/A
107 min
Ingrid and Martha were close friends in their youth, when they worked together at the same magazine. Ingrid went on to become an autofiction novelist while Martha became a war reporter, and they were separated by the circumstances of life. After years of being out of touch, they meet again in an extreme but strangely sweet situation.
Successful writer "Ingrid" (Julianne Moore) is signing some books when one of her friends informs her that old pal "Martha" (Tilda Swinton) is suffering from cancer. Upon visiting her in hospital, she discovers that things aren't looking so good and over the following days the two start to become closer, sharing confidences and becoming quite inter-reliant. When an experimental treatment fails to deliver, the former war reporter "Martha" makes quite a bold proposal to her friend that will require them to retreat to a quiet residence in Woodstock where she will take matters into her own hands. Initially quite wary of this plan, "Ingrid" must decide whether or not she wishes to help - with all the moral and legal ramifications that involves, and so she turns to both of these women's ex-boyfriend "Damian" (John Turturro) for advice as she wrestles with her conscience. The concept here is really quite poignant, especially in light of reinvigorated conversations here in the UK about the rights of the terminally ill to make their own choices without fear of those they leave behind being persecuted by either the law or the zealous but I can't say I loved the presentation or the style. Far too much of the dialogue between the two women seems more aimed at filling-in the audience rather than on building a rapport between them. Things that they would have to have known about the other are presented in all too sterile a fashion, and at times I wondered if there wasn't a fair degree of dubbing going on too. Indeed, the whole thing deals with some seriously emotional issues in a remarkably sterile fashion. Both actors deliver strongly, but their dynamic isn't convincing - well, it wasn't for me, and the surfeit of verbiage rather suffocated the emotional impact the film could have made. Alex Høgh Andersen sheds his Viking leathers to remind us briefly of the ghastliness of the Vietnam war but otherwise this is largely down to the two characters dealing with a scenario we all dread, just not terribly convincingly.
Bold as always, Spanish master Pedro Almodóvar elegantly tackles the touchiest of subjects for his first English-language feature. And it's a film that could change your mind about euthanasia.
The Room Next Door peels back the very layered onion of the right-to-die movement with an emotional heartbeat that’s truly rewarding to watch. It’s strong, yet wonderfully nuanced; it features two sublime actresses at the very top of their game; and – dare we say it – this so-called tragic drama even has its laugh out loud moments.
If this were another drama (or a Hollywood weepie), you might expect Ingrid to plead with Martha to reconsider. Instead, Almodóvar introduces far more interesting thought bubbles. When they begin to have minor disagreements, it feels like small scabs being picked off a much bigger wound. There’s a shadow living with them – an elephant in the room next door, lying in wait to land a crushing blow.
The Room Next Door’s final act is a thought-provoking look at the right to die, and the uneasy ways this moral argument grinds its cogs alongside the laws we’ve created. Technically, Ingrid commits a felony - but Almodóvar is asking, did Ingrid do anything wrong?
With its gentle quality, it’s hard not to take The Room Next Door home with you. Yes, it’s a death-affirming story. And yet by probing the delicacy of our short lifespans – time spent writing about warfare, and painting, and breathing mountain air, and making love – it’s also a deeply life-affirming one.
Read our full review at https://good.film/guide/the-room-next-door-could-change-your-mind-about-euthanasia
