The Room Next Door
(available now on Netflix) has Pedro Almodóvar once more pondering mortality. Could it be his own? Maybe – but this work isn’t as direct about it as his 2019 film did.
Pain and Glory
, where he portrayed Antonio Banderas as a filmmaker grappling with both the physical and psychological burdens associated with aging.
Room
– based on
Sigrid Nunez’s novel
What Are You Experiencing?
– is absolutely a deep dive into the inevitability of death, starring Tilda Swinton as a terminally ill former war correspondent and Julianne Moore as the close friend who’s essentially holding vigil. Notably, this is Almodovar’s first feature-length English-language film, and while it marks a departure of sorts for the Spanish all-timer of an auteur, it’s also so very distinctly Pedro.
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THE ROOM NEXT DOOR
: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The Gist:
Ingrid (Moore) harbors an intense fear of death, which led her to write another book on the subject. Despite not exorcising any demons through her work, she found herself on a fated course towards confronting mortality. An old acquaintance surprises her at a book event and informs her that their shared friend Martha (Swinton) is battling cancer. Their relationship had drifted apart due to the natural ebbs and flows of life rather than any significant rifts. Upon visiting the treatment facility, Ingrid feels as though little time has elapsed since they last met; they greet each other with warmth and candidly share personal thoughts and feelings—friendships can indeed be just like that.
In their twenties, Martha and Ingrid collaborated as magazine journalists. Martha established herself as a distinguished war correspondent for The New York Times, whereas Ingrid achieved success as an author. Over time, they drifted away from one another yet presumably kept track of each other’s accomplishments. As they reminisce about past times and share updates on their respective journeys, the weight of introspection naturally falls upon Martha, whose inoperable ovarian cancer makes these reflections particularly poignant.
Flashback scenes reveal young Martha (played by Esther McGregor), falling deeply in love with a gentle young man (portrayed by Alex Hogh Andersen). This individual returns home profoundly changed after serving in the Vietnam conflict. Together, they have a daughter named Michelle—never seen in this narrative—who has become a source of great remorse for Martha because she feels responsible for the strain between them; they remain disconnected primarily due to Michelle\’s resentment towards not having known her biological father. Despite being aware of his impending parenthood, he vanished from both women’s lives only to meet an untimely end under mysterious circumstances depicted through surreal flashbacks.
Martha\’s journey through cancer has been both peculiar and complex—perhaps even reminiscent of something from an Almodóvar film. Initially resigned to her fate, she found some solace in promising new therapies that restored her hopes temporarily only for them eventually to fail. As the disease progressed, doctors gave her less than a year left to live and warned of further intensive chemotherapy sessions ahead. Her longtime companion, Ingrid, frequently stops by to offer support, listening ears, floral gifts, affectionate hugs, and heartfelt company.
However, Martha dreads spending her last days diminished physically and emotionally. To avoid such a scenario, she secretly procured an illicit euthanasia drug online and plans to use it soon—but not without company nearby yet out of direct sight. Specifically, she wishes for Ingrid to stay just beyond arm’s reach once she takes the fatal dose. Despite having closer confidants who might typically fulfill this role, none wish involvement due to their own reservations about assisting with end-of-life decisions. Yet, should Ingrid step up despite her paralyzing dread of mortality? True camaraderie often involves facing uncomfortable truths together rather than merely sharing pleasant memories and light embraces, wouldn’t you say?
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Which Films Might This Make You Think Of?
Setting a film in New York City with characters displaying various levels of neurosis, much like Almodóvar has done, parallels Woody Allen’s transition in his later career from focusing on Manhattan to exploring Barcelona and Paris.
Performance Worth Watching:
Swinton imbues her character with a sharp yet entirely relatable demeanor, allowing us entry into her thoughts sufficiently for insight without revealing everything. This portrayal stands out as a finely tuned and idiosyncratic performance rivaling some of her finest work.
Memorable Dialogue:
Martha’s statement: \”I can outmaneuver cancer if I stay ahead of it.\”
Ingrid’s insight: \”Many different ways exist to navigate life within a tragedy.\”
Sex and Skin:
None.
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Our Take:
The Room Next Door
Manages to achieve something remarkable: Despite being a movie centered around mortality, it doesn’t feel gloomy or disheartening. To me, this underscores the idea that life itself is undeniably beautiful yet cursed. This sentiment surfaces when Ingrid suggests we live within a tragedy during a poignant moment featuring a nihilistic character brilliantly portrayed by John Turturro — Damian, a past love interest both for her and Martha, though never simultaneously — a scholar preoccupied with discussing environmental crises and reluctant to see new generations born into what he sees as a doomed planet. Herein lies Almodóvar’s point—that even as death looms unavoidable, so too does existence persist. Will you focus solely on how these vibrant flowers will eventually wilt away, or instead revel in their transient splendor?
The movie explores the ambiguous territory between optimism and pessimism, where hope and fear often clash yet occasionally intertwine. At its core, it delves into themes of friendship and dedication, but fundamentally centers around issues of control. After all, why do we have protagonists who are writers—creators and shapers of stories? For Martha, as a journalist, controlling these narratives is out of reach; she merely documents what happens and thus accepts the inevitability of mortality more readily. Conversely, Ingrid, being a novelist, wields an almost godlike perspective over fictional worlds but struggles with managing her actual life\’s storyline.
But
The Room Next Door
The film stumbles slightly in developing its characters—Moore, as always an adept and compassionate actor, does her best with a woman who remains somewhat underdeveloped in the script and delivers lines that are occasionally awkward, even though the narrative focuses largely through her eyes. This leaves us questioning just who this character really is, but Moore bridges these gaps by instinctually embodying the role. Her performance is sufficient to convey Ingrid\’s experiences with mortality, her courage in confronting such intense matters, and dealing with her friend’s desires, whether justified or not. For Ingrid, this represents considerable emotional vulnerability, which Almodóvar manages to explore seriously without overwhelming either the character or the audience.
The filmmaker manages to challenge some of his typical styles and themes; instead of focusing heavily on sexuality, he explores the special closeness between two longtime friends who have a profound understanding of one another. They\’re acutely conscious of the awkwardness inherent in navigating unfamiliar territory together, so they openly tackle these issues as mature individuals. As expected from Almodóvar, this sophisticated and perceptive female-driven narrative unfolds against the backdrop of an intricately crafted melodrama. The characters navigate through vivid settings adorned in bright outfits, and scenes often feature them delicately holding oversized juicy fruits like golf-ball-sized strawberries and grapes, all framed by their striking crimson lipstick. (Oh goodness, the fresh produce showcased throughout this film!)
the fresh fruit
The elegance encompassing Ingrid and Martha’s pain is an essential element of the movie’s themes. Overlooking this aspect would significantly misunderstand this beautiful, touching film.
Our Call:
The Room Next Door
grapples with life’s toughest issues in a tenderly evocative and deep way, maintaining an elegant direction and performance typical for such high-caliber artists. While it falls short of being as dynamic and captivating as Almodovar’s finest works, it remains a beautiful and reflective accomplishment. CONSIDER WATCHING IT.
John Serba serves as a freelance writer and movie reviewer located in Grand Rapids, Michigan.