Films that are straightforwardly about death are rare, but movies that are about both death and sex are rarer, still.
In Pedro Almod贸var鈥檚 the Spanish director鈥檚 first English-language feature film, plays Ingrid, a celebrated author who鈥檚 just written a book about death. She鈥檚 at a book signing in New York when she hears that an old friend, a war correspondent named Martha Hunt ( ), has been diagnosed with cancer.
Ingrid rushes to Martha in the hospital, and the two friends, who haven鈥檛 seen each other in years, quickly get reacquainted. Soon, Martha鈥檚 cancer worsens and she asks Ingrid to assist her in self-euthanasia. 鈥淭he cancer can鈥檛 get me if I get the cancer first,鈥� she says.
Why not ask someone she鈥檚 closer with? Well, she has, Martha says, but for various reasons none of them are willing. With an illegal pill bought from, as she says, 鈥渢he dark web鈥� and a slight conspiratorial vibe that they鈥檙e committing a crime together, they travel to a modernist house in upstate New York where Martha plans to end her life. She'll be comforted, she believes, having Ingrid just down the hall. Martha doesn't want any fuss, just a nice time. 鈥淎s if we were on vacation," she says.
鈥淭he Room Next Door,鈥� the title of which plays off Virginia Woolf鈥檚 鈥淎 Room of One鈥檚 Own,鈥� is about finding dignity and contentment with death as a natural part of life, and, perhaps, the mystery of the relationships that end up mattering the most. The one thing Martha and Ingrid share is a former lover (played by ), who turns up again in clandestine meetings with Ingrid. He鈥檚 preoccupied with environmental disaster and the death of the planet, but fondly recalls sleeping with Martha as 鈥渓ike having sex with a terrorist 鈥� it always felt like the last time.鈥�
No one besides Almod贸var can get away with lines like this, in any language. A less fevered austerity has crept into some of his fine late-period movies (particularly but also ), but within them still beats a passionate, melodramatic heart. Death is everywhere in 鈥淎 Room of One鈥檚 Own." The movie is very much in dialogue with other works like James Joyce鈥檚 鈥淭he Dead." (They watch John Huston's 1987 adaptation one night.) But it鈥檚 not an especially dour film, and you sense, in it鈥檚 boldly colorful designs and lush storytelling that Almod贸var is as concerned with life as he is with death.
鈥淚 still think sex is the best way to fend off looming thoughts of death,鈥� Martha tells Ingrid.
Not all of this works, even if every bit of 鈥淭he Room Next Door鈥� feels conjured 鈥� as is typical of Almod贸var's thickly layered films 鈥� from a fully fleshed-out emotional terrain. (Here, he adapts Sigrid Nunez鈥檚 2020 American novel, 鈥淲hat Are You Going Through.") There's an awkward and overdone flashback early in the film when Martha recalls her painful history with the father to her estranged daughter. Some of the dialogue can sound stilted.
But what absolutely, undoubtedly does work is Moore and Swinton together. If some of the more melodramatic or crime-movie flourishes feel forced, the central relationship of 鈥淭he Room Next Door鈥� is consistently provocative. Swinton, in particular, is extraordinarily deft at finding Martha's singular equilibrium: on the brink of death but still alive to so much 鈥� books, movies, the conversation of a friend. Death is coming, so best to spend what's left in good company.
鈥淭he Room Next Door," a Sony Pictures release in theaters Friday, is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association for thematic content, strong language and some sexual reference. Running time: 110 minutes. Three stars out of four.
Jake Coyle, The Associated Press
