THE STORY – 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. Eventually, 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.
THE CAST – Tilda Swinton, Julianne Moore, John Turturro, Alessandro Nivola, Juan Diego Botto, Raúl Arévalo, Victoria Luengo, Alex Hogh Andersen, Esther McGregor, Alvise Rigo & Melina Matthews
THE TEAM – Pedro Almodóvar (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 107 Minutes
You know you’re watching a Pedro Almodóvar film from the very first shot. Vibrant colors will fill every corner of the screen, while a melodramatic story will keep you guessing what twists and turns the famed Spanish director has in store. His first feature-length film in English, “The Room Next Door,” has many of these same elements but is also one of his most muted and mature films yet. Based on the novel, “What Are You Going Through” by Sigrid Nunez, the film is a serious but never too heavy examination of taking life and death into one’s own hands and nurturing female friendships, featuring a beautifully grounded performance from Tilda Swinton and a tender Julianne Moore. It’s a joy to watch these two excellent actresses share the screen for the first time, even if the story itself leaves much to be desired.
Ingrid (Moore) is an author who reflects on death in her books but is terrified by the idea of it. With her bright eyes, a colorful wardrobe, and a new book on the way, she embraces life and has no plans on leaving this world anytime soon. But she soon has to face it head-on when she reconnects with her old magazine pal turned war correspondent, Martha (Swinton), who has been diagnosed with stage three cervical cancer. Swinton’s pale skin-pops against her vibrant red and green wardrobe, showing just how dire her situation is, along with how easily she’s come to terms with the end. “Surviving feels almost disappointing,” she utters.
Their reunion gives them a chance to reflect on the past, particularly Martha, who has an estranged relationship with her daughter. Through flashbacks, we learn that she got pregnant as a teen, and the father, who came back a “broken boy” after the war, went on to live his life without ever knowing his daughter. Martha is no saint either, choosing to chase the adrenaline of war reporting rather than spending time with her daughter. Instead of dwelling on the past, Martha takes her future into her own hands. When her latest chemotherapy treatment yields an unpromising result, she decides to die on her terms, and she wants Ingrid to be by her side.
Thus begins another melodramatic story from Almodóvar – as well as a sassy piano and string score – which is far more toned down given its nature but allows us to reflect on our own mortality. The two women head to an impeccably designed home in the woods where Martha plans to live out her remaining days. Ideally, Ingrid would stay in the room next door, though she opts for the more spacious room downstairs, and if the red door to Martha’s room is closed, that means she’s taken a euthanasia pill she’s acquired from the dark web. Over the next several days, the two older women share a unique bond, which we don’t normally get in films.
Swinton and Moore are a perfect pairing, playing off each other well, even if their characters differ vastly in their thoughts on death. While Ingrid is disturbed by the subject, never wanting to talk about it when it’s brought up and questioning her friend’s decision, Martha remains clear in her pursuit of peace and quiet. There are, thankfully, no dramatic displays of hysteria or denial in the film, just the raw, realistic reactions we all have when faced with mortality. It’s enough to just watch Moore and Swinton sit together on a couch and listen to one another as they navigate this journey together, learning to appreciate and accept life and death in the process. Swinton, in particular, with her quiet confidence, stands tall in every scene.
But there’s also much to be desired. It’s frustrating that we never learn why Ingrid is so against talking about death, and her constant deflections don’t give us quite as many emotional scenes. The moments when she does let out some pent-up feelings often come at awkward times, like at a gym training session, and not when they’d be most stimulating, like in conversation with Martha. There’s also the addition of Damien (John Turturro), both women’s previous lover, who is an extreme pessimist given the state of climate change. He comes and goes throughout the film but feels entirely out of place in this story. Another storyline involving Martha’s daughter comes too late in the film to feel fully satisfying.
Despite some setbacks in the storytelling, “The Room Next Door” is served well by its two impactful leads, which let each other shine in each scene. Almodóvar is one director you can count on to give his leading ladies complex stories to chew on, and he delivers on that front once again. But his usual bite and liveliness are missing from this story (aside from a few laughs), so we can only hope that a return to form is in the cards for his next project.
