The Room Next Door review: Pedro Almodovar explores death and friendship in first English-language feature

Spanish auteur Pedro Almodovar is one of the few great filmmakers who can get away with being both so fantastical and literal at the same time.

His films have this vibe of being not quite of our world, as if existing in a pocket universe which is just a little more emotionally open (people mostly say what they mean) and quite a bit more aesthetically minded than ours.

It’s a world you want to if not live in, at least visit. Because beneath the curated visual delights and beautiful people, there is a dark seam that runs through it, even if it’s not always apparent at first

The Room Next Door is Almodovar’s first English-language feature and he has picked a pair of perfect performers for this talky two-hander, Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore.

Ingrid (Moore) and Martha (Swinton) were friends as young journalists in New York City but fell out of touch over the years. Ingrid turned to writing books and Martha became a war correspondent.

At a book signing, Ingrid discovers Martha is in hospital with cervical cancer. They reconnect as if little time has passed, picking up the conversation with ease, but there is something hanging between them.

Martha will soon die, and Ingrid has a fear of death. Martha wants to be in control of her death, and had earlier come to terms with it when she was given a reprieve – “Survival almost feels disappointing, I was ready to leave”.

She has a request of Ingrid. She has rented a house in the woods, where she plans to take dark web-acquired euthanasia pills, and would like Ingrid to be in the next room when it happens. It’s a big ask but Ingrid agrees.

The conversations between the women allows Almodovar to parse our attitudes to and acceptance of death, explored through two characters with very different relationships to it.

Almodovar adapted the story from Sigrid Nunez’s book, What Are You Going Through, and there is, as there often is, a formalism to his dialogue, especially now that he’s working in his non-native language.

At times, it feels like watching a play in which two people speak with acuity about grand ideas, pondering death, loneliness, happiness, existentialism and fatalism. It’s cerebral and philosophical.

But any “staginess” is offset by the slight whimsy to The Room Next Door, created in part by the eye-popping colours used across the production design and costuming. Every frame is full of rich jewel tones, whether it’s the teal sofa, the lime couch, the emerald green jumper or the vivid bowl of fruit.

It evokes a curious interplay between fiction and truth. You’re always aware that you’re watching something not real, but beneath the artifice is emotional and intellectual truth.

Swinton and Moore, plus supporting actors including John Turturro and Alessandro Nivola, slide well into Almodovar’s cinematic world, and are on the wavelength of his filmmaking.

The Room Next Door doesn’t have the fire of some of his other work, but it has a lot to offer long-time Almodovar fans, and maybe even capture some new ones.

Rating: 3.5/5

The Room Next Door is in cinemas on Boxing Day