The Room Next Door

Would you be my death partner?

This is the peculiar question you find yourself mulling over as you exit The Room Next Door, Pedro Almodóvar's first English-language film. It’s not a question you’d dare ask your friends—not only because it’s inherently odd, but also because it would be nearly impossible to explain, even with the film’s intricate context. The film offers a meditative glimpse into life, death, human connections, decision-making, and the futile desire to control fate. Yet, while these grand themes resonate deeply, none of them hit as they are supposed to.

At its core, The Room Next Door tells a brief, understated story of Martha (Tilda Swinton), a war-hardened journalist who is forced to confront her own mortality. Diagnosed with terminal cancer, she initially experiments with cutting-edge treatments but ultimately decides to die on her own terms. To do so, she purchases a lethal pill from the dark web—a decidedly illegal choice in the United States. However, Marta’s final act requires a companion, someone to sit in the room next door as she takes her final breath. That someone is Ingrid (Julianne Moore), a long-lost friend whose life is irrevocably intertwined with Martha’s past.

The pair retreats to a secluded, vibrantly rendered location for Marta’s final chapter. The cinematography is undeniably one of the film’s highlights, with Almodóvar masterfully employing bold colors to underscore the fleeting beauty of life.

Despite the striking visuals and occasional moments of poignant dialogue, the film struggles to create a genuine emotional connection. Both Martha and Ingrid are written as distant, enigmatic figures, making it difficult for the audience to empathize with their journey. Over the course of two hours, they remain locked within their detached personas, never breaking through the barriers that would allow viewers to fully invest in their stories. The film hints at profundity but often veers into pretentiousness, with a script that lacks the depth needed to fully explore its weighty themes.

This emotional detachment is compounded by the film’s inconsistent tone. At times, it flirts with camp—whether intentionally or not—creating a dissonance. While dark humor occasionally lands, bringing much-needed levity, it does little to offset the feeling that something essential has been lost in translation.

In the pairing of Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore, the latter significantly outshines her co-star in terms of acting prowess. Moreover, the decision to have Swinton play both herself as a mother and her daughter comes across as cheap and rather odd.

Ultimately, The Room Next Door shines in its moments of introspection, exploring life’s impermanence and the value of living on one’s own terms. Its striking visual palette and occasional flashes of dark humor provide fleeting brilliance. However, the lack of emotional resonance and a disjointed script prevent it from achieving the profundity it clearly aspires to.

6/10