‘The Room Next Door’ Review: Pedro Almodóvar’s Rumination on Death is an Actress Extravaganza for Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore | Venice

It took two powerhouse actresses, a story about death, and the lure of a bold new challenge to finally coax Pedro Almodóvar into making his first English-language feature. In a film that marks his long-anticipated leap into English-speaking feature films, Almodóvar spins a tale of reconnection between old friends Martha, a former war correspondent played by Tilda Swinton, and Ingrid, a successful writer played by Julianne Moore, against the backdrop of life’s final chapter.

Martha’s life has been a whirlwind of adrenaline and danger, with many highs and lows leaving their mark on her work experiences and her relationships, including with her daughter, from whom she kept the truth about her father. Meanwhile, Ingrid’s latest book, a rumination on her deepest fear—death—propels her back into contact with Martha, who is now battling stage three cervical cancer. As Martha’s condition deteriorates, she expresses her desire to die on her own terms, seeking euthanasia via a pill she found on the dark web. And for this purpose, she needs a companion to be with her in the room next door for comfort and to ensure her dignity in death. Despite initial resistance, Ingrid is drawn into her friend’s final wish.

Pedro Almodóvar knows how to dig into the profound and often unspoken realities of extreme situations and facing terminal illness is undoubtedly the hardest of them all, a situation that many who have watched a loved one suffer from will find strikingly familiar. For Martha, cancer renders the outside world nearly irrelevant, as the immediate and crushing reality of illness overshadows all other concerns. Despite her dire situation, Martha remains determined, pursuing various treatments and clinging to hope. However, as the doors began to close, treatments failed, and the cancer metastasized, Martha ultimately chose to stop trying. She rejects the conventional notion of battling illness as a contest of winners and losers, instead embracing the idea that choosing to end her life on her own terms can be seen as a form of victory in itself. 

Almodóvar’s restrained approach, very close in style to his understated Julieta, offers a dignified exploration of terminal illness. This subtle handling of the subject matter allows the remarkable Tilda Swinton to deliver an exquisite performance. Swinton’s portrayal captures Martha’s inner conflict and resignation with a composed intensity, reflecting a nuanced emotional landscape that might have been lost with an overly mannered and sentimental approach. Also worth noting is that this role showcases Swinton at her most natural; a broken person, stripped of artifice.

But the film’s tempo comes mainly from Julianne Moore, who transforms the seemingly thinner role of Ingrid into a substantial act through her exceptional craft. Despite the lack of a detailed backstory—where we only know that Ingrid is a renowned writer, an old friend, and that they have both shared a lover once—the screenplay provides minimal information. Yet, Moore’s nuanced and often reflective performance is all that Almodóvar needed to fill the obvious writing void of her character. Her ability to convey complex emotions with little words turns Ingrid’s quiet strength into a powerful counterpoint to Martha’s more vocal and intense character. 

Even in English, Pedro Almodóvar remains an unparalleled master of storytelling, effortlessly weaving themes of friendship and mortality with his signature style. Adapted from Sigrid Nunez’s novel “What Are You Going Through,” The Room Next Door marks a notable advancement in Almodóvar’s short English-language repertoire, building upon the lessons learned from his earlier shorts. Those previous works, though somewhat divisive, laid the groundwork for this film, which showcases a significant leap in his self-confidence. Inbal Weinberg’s bold production design, Eduard Grau’s sober but still vibrant color palette, and Almodóvar’s rich cinematic allusions are on full display. A frequent Almodóvar collaborator, Alberto Iglesias’ music plays a crucial role, as compositions meticulously guide the audience with each musical cue towards every revelation and shift in tone.

Although The Room Next Door stands out as one of Pedro Almodóvar’s darkest films, it cleverly infuses humor in unexpected moments like all landmark offerings by the Spanish filmmaker. Martha’s occasional sharp wit and ability to confront her end with unexpected levity provide much-needed moments of comic relief. A particularly memorable scene features Ingrid, fraught with stress, visiting a gym where a personal trainer, bound by a strict no-touch policy, can only offer verbal support. Ingrid’s response, “Thank you. I feel hugged,” captures a moment of comedic gold. At one point, Ingrid wakes up early, believing Martha has already taken her final pill. Her ensuing panic attack is met with Martha’s calm and humorous suggestion that Ingrid views it as a “rehearsal” for what’s to come.

Despite the film’s moments of sharp wit, the script of The Room Next Door reveals notable flaws. Some transitions to English feel abrupt and incomplete as if the delicate fabric of Almodóvar’s narrative was roughly stitched together. Extraneous threads, like environmental concerns and an inconclusive police investigation, weave their way in but never quite integrate. These distractions pull the focus from the film’s main thread which is the intimate and profound journey of Martha and Ingrid as they confront the raw realities of life and death.

Grade: B+

This review is from the 2024 Venice Film Festival where The Room Next Door premiered in competition. The film will be released by Sony Pictures Classics in the U.S. on December 20 in New York and Los Angeles, in select theaters on December 25 and nationwide in January 2025.