The Room Next Door review: Tilda and Julianne are impeccable in debut English film for legendary Spanish director

As a film enthusiast with over three decades of movie-watching under my belt and a particular fondness for horror films, I must say that I found myself thoroughly entertained by the latest offering from the Eggers brothers, “The Clovehitch Killer.” Formathryn Hunter’s performance as the nightmarish live-in relative Solange is nothing short of chilling. Her portrayal of a racist, nuttily religious, and willfully incontinent character is both unsettling and darkly comedic.

Verdict: Timely and engaging

Amidst the heated debates surrounding assisted dying, with British MPs set to vote next month on its legality within the UK, renowned Spanish filmmaker and writer Pedro Almodóvar has opted for a highly pertinent subject – The Room Next Door – as his debut English-language production.

This movie delves into intellectual discussions on literature and philosophy, but don’t let that intimidate you; after all, euthanasia is a complex topic. However, the film manages to avoid coming across as pretentious or dull thanks to two outstanding performances from Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore.

I saw it last month at the Venice Film Festival, where it understandably won the main prize,the Golden Lion.

Martha (Swinton) and Ingrid (Moore) were long-lost companions who found each other again when Ingrid learned about Martha’s terminal illness due to cervical cancer.

1) Martha serves as a renowned war reporter and maintains a strained relationship with her single daughter. On the other hand, Ingrid is a writer engrossed in writing a book centering around the artist Dora Carrington.

Previously, they worked together at a fashionable magazine, and shared a mutual ex-lover named Damian, portrayed by John Turturro.

Although Damian and some secondary characters play minor roles, The Room Next Door primarily focuses on just two main characters.

Drawing inspiration from the 2020 novel “What Are You Going Through” penned by American author Sigrid Nunez, this work might as well be transformed into a captivating stage production.

As a devoted admirer, I must say that, just as anticipated, Almodóvar masterfully wields his camera. His cinematic creation is nothing short of a visual feast for the eyes, while simultaneously stimulating the intellect.

The director is a strong advocate for assisted dying, which is already legal in Spain, but doesn’t let his convictions get in the way of his story-telling.

Occasionally, he provides us with brief glimpses into the past. This is where we learn about Martha, a young woman, who became pregnant by her former troubled boyfriend soon after his return from the Vietnam War.

However, her profession in high-risk areas didn’t make single parenting easy for her. It seems she hasn’t had much time or opportunity to fulfill her role as a mother effectively. To cope with the dangers of her job, she found herself engaging in multiple romantic relationships. Yet, Ingrid is always understanding and non-judgmental.

In a fresh surge, their bond deepens as Martha reveals she procured a ‘euthanasia pill’ from the supposedly hidden corners of the internet.

She plans to rent a house in upstate New York and kill herself there, but wants Ingrid to be her companion on those last steps of the journey, and ‘to be in the next room’ when she swallows the deadly tablet.

It’s what you might call a big ask, but the unfailingly empathetic Ingrid agrees.

The house is a stunning modernist abode located not far from Woodstock, yet I must admit that I felt a slight cringe at its evident upper-middle-class elegance, as if intellectuals with a penchant for discussing James Joyce and Ernest Hemingworth were the sole individuals who could evoke deep contemplation on mortality.

There’s also a slightly forced analogy between Martha’s impending demise and, according to Damian who is a fierce climate-change campaigner, that of the planet.

However, Swinton and Moore’s exceptional performances dissipate any concerns, much like autumn leaves in the Catskill Mountains. Observing their characters engage, sharing secrets, and occasionally showing a bit of edge towards one another is truly a special experience.

As a devoted admirer, I find that there’s an undercurrent of unexpected twists reminiscent of a gripping climax, or perhaps a hint of suspense, but what truly captivates me about Almodovar’s work is immersing myself in the depth of his characters and the eloquence of his storytelling.

Verdict: A grisly debut

Moving from one thematically significant space to the next, The Front Room offers a chilling blend of psychological horror, subtly infused with comedic elements that might even be quite pronounced.

In simpler terms, Belinda, who is pregnant, and her less competent spouse Norman, are forced to cohabit with Norman’s disliked and challenging stepmother Solange. Solange, powerfully portrayed by Kathryn Hunter, truly embodies the role of a troublesome, permanent houseguest.

In a more pleasant phrasing, one could say that the character Solange, who holds strong and controversial views on race and religion, is portrayed as intentionally careless in the film directed by Max and Sam Eggers, and this unconventional behavior seems to be used by the directors with an uncomfortable sense of amusement.

In the horror genre, Robert Eggers, who is their half-brother, has an impressive track record, with The Witch (2015) being one example. While this movie doesn’t reach the same level of excellence, it does possess a distinct, gruesome charm.

Fright night with seminal slasher Freddy

Just as JK Rowling might not have received thanks from those who knew Harry Potter, we should remember people like my wife’s grandmother, Nellie, who resided on Elm Street prior to Wes Craven turning it into a symbol of fear in 1984.

Despite being far from home in Ohio on Elm Street, just beyond Barnsley, the laughter never ceased.

Nellie is long gone now,and so, we have to hope, is Freddy Krueger.

Additionally, it’s remarkably short, a remnant of a time when horror movie directors mastered the skill of conciseness.

Verdict: A dog’s dinner

by LARUSHKA IVAN-ZADEH for the Daily Mail

It seems fitting that Halloween, with its spooky atmosphere, marks the end of the superhero movie era as we know it. The film “Venom: The Last Dance” appears to be displaying its final moments.

In summary, we find ourselves at the third and hopefully concluding installment featuring Tom Hardy portraying Eddie Brock, a tormented journalist. Eddie has the unique ability, thanks to a symbiotic alien named Venom, to transform into a powerful super-villain. Venom, being talkative with fangs, enjoys snacking on bad guys’ heads.

In a typical action-packed scenario reminiscent of a popular comic book movie, an ominous extraterrestrial tyrant plans to annihilate the cosmos, provided he can seize a mysterious artifact known as the Codex. This powerful object is currently secured within Eddie/Venom’s possession.

The comedy is below par, the set-pieces distinctly unmemorable and the plot holes are gaping.

The main cast, which includes Chiwetel Ejiofor, Juno Temple, Rhys Ifans, Stephen Graham (all from Britain), along with others, find themselves waiting idly, taken aback by the rather unimpressive special effects.

The odd bromance between Eddie and his slimy black pal remains the USP. Die-hard fans (the only ones with a shout of understanding the story line) may also enjoy the lashings of cartoonish violence. But, bottom line: it’s a dog’s dinner. And I feel sorry for that dog.

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2024-10-25 02:07