Fluffy, pink snow falls over New York — perhaps due to global climate change. Or maybe because the once-famous war correspondent Martha is gravely ill, the experimental cancer treatment isn’t working, and the final snowfall seems especially strange and beautiful to her.
Even though it’s clear that Martha is dying, she decides to take control of the last act of her life and purchases a “death pill” through the Dark Web. No, she hasn’t lost the will to live; she’s simply tired of fighting the pain, but more importantly, the fear of death. During the war, she often witnessed people die, but back then, she wasn’t alone—she was surrounded by colleagues and friends. Now, in the final stretch of her life, the once-sought-after and sociable professional has been left entirely alone. Her only daughter harbors the coldest feelings toward her and seems unwilling to accompany her mother in her final moments. Close friends are more fearful of her new perspective on death. Only Ingrid remains—a friend Martha hasn’t seen in over a decade, who suddenly reappears in the hospital upon learning that Martha is terminally ill. Ingrid is also a writer, and her latest book is dedicated to her own fear of death, making the decision to witness her friend’s death feel like a transformation for her, as if becoming someone else. Yet, Ingrid is a famous novelist for a reason—she’s ready to take the risk, both for Martha and for herself, to understand her own boundaries. Ingrid doesn’t need to do much except stay in the next room. Since Martha doesn’t want to be surrounded by familiar objects, she rents a beautiful house, an architectural masterpiece, in the countryside near Woodstock, NY.
The Room Next Door is a film full of dialogue. Martha and Ingrid constantly talk about death. Tilda Swinton, portraying Martha, brings to life a grounded woman who knows what she wants, but who still finds herself in uncharted territory. She might not be ready for death, but she’s prepared to embark on that journey. Julianne Moore, playing Ingrid, captures just the right nuances of character to make the final friendship between the two women warm, touching, and emotional.
Every famous director has a film about love and death. Up until now, Almodóvar’s films were more often about love, as seen in Talk to Her (2002), Volver (2006), Broken Embraces (2009), The Skin I Live In (2011), Julieta (2016), and even a mix of both in All About My Mother (1999) or Pain and Glory (2019). The Room Next Door is more likely one of the first films from the Spanish maestro directly centered on death. This film is an adaptation of the novel What Are You Going Through by American writer Sigrid Nunez, which Almodovar slightly altered by creating backstories for the protagonists: the novel’s unnamed narrator becomes a writer named Ingrid, and her dying friend and colleague is transformed into a war journalist. The director also added supporting storylines and rewrote the ending. The result is neither a tragic film nor a melodrama, despite it dealing with euthanasia. Instead, it is a direct exploration of the emotions surrounding the impulse toward suicide. Essentially, it is a bitter elegy on death, presented as a quiet ode to friendship. It is also the director’s first full-length English-language film, following his two short English-language works: The Human Voice and Strange Way of Life.
In typical Almodóvar fashion, the film is dedicated to women, giving them the lead roles, while men appear only in the background. For instance, there is an intellectual lecturer played by John Turturro, who somehow manages to connect both women, as he once had been a lover to each of them. The male gaze in cinema is entirely rephrased here, placing women as the true protagonists, undergoing trials, while men merely accompany them in the background, softening the blows of fate.
Almodóvar’s latest film shares little in common with his vibrant Spanish works full of light, intense emotions, and colors. And while viewers might notice the frequently changing bright lipstick shades on Moore or the pop-art colors in the interiors, in essence, this is a calm, almost minimalist film. The most expressive image is a red door, usually left ajar. On the day Martha decides to take the fatal pill, this red door must be closed.
Life and death — two of the most important themes for any person. We can’t choose how we come into the world, but Almodóvar insists that a person should have a say when it comes to their own death.
