If ever there was a perfect illustration of how a film is
less what it’s about than how it is about that thing, “Room” is it. Adapted by
Emma Donoghue from her best-selling 2010 novel, “Room” is a gripping and deeply
emotional story that nevertheless revolves around a nightmarish scenario of
victimization. Taking inspiration from similar stories we hear with alarming
frequency in the news — young women abducted and held captive for years by some
man (and it’s inevitably a man in these occurrences) — “Room” is similar to
“Spotlight” in the way it takes some horrifying themes and drains them of all
sensationalism. Director Lenny Abrahamson (“Frank”) shows a sensitivity to the
material that, when combined with two astonishing lead performances, transforms
potentially grim subject matter into an uplifting and life-affirming
experience.
Joy (Brie
Larson) is a young mother raising her son, Jack (Jacob Tremblay), while
forcibly confined to living in a 10-by-10-foot shed. With little hope of
freedom, Joy has chosen to tell Jack that there is no
world outside of “room,” and its walls are all that separates them from the
nothingness of “outer space.” Joy is a great mother to Jack, despite never
given a choice as to whether she ever wanted to become one. Working with
cinematographer Danny Cohen, Abrahamson gives us a unique sense of the space in
these early scenes. Room feels warm and lived-in, but we never lose the feeling
the claustrophobia the characters face.
The film
begins on the morning of Jack’s 5th birthday. Knowing no other life but the one
inside room, Jack is still relatively content. Joy shields her son from the
nightly visits by their captor (referred to only as Old Nick, and played by
Sean Bridgers), who slinks in to deliver essentials and to use her body as he
sees fit. Joy has made “room” into as safe and nurturing an environment as
humanly possible considering the circumstances; in one heartrending and quietly
horrifying scene, we see how she’s even made screaming for help into a game for
Jack. But in her eyes we can see the toll the years have taken, the daily
struggle to not sink into despair.
Now Jack has
finally reached the age when he begins to ask questions that Joy doesn’t know
how to answer. She knows that something has to give, and when an opportunity
seems to present itself, she begins to formulate a plan that may help them
escape. Though told mostly from Jack’s point of view, Donoghue’s deeply
empathetic script also puts us in Joy’s shoes, allowing us to understand her
frustration when she snaps at her son — for reasons both reasonable and
unreasonable — as anyone would when living under such constant stress.
If you wish
to remain spoiler-free, you may wish to skip ahead to the next paragraph — though
if you’ve seen any of the film’s far-too-revealing trailers, you already know a
major turning point of the story. Joy and Jack do manage to get free, and the
second half of the film is devoted to their struggles acclimating to living
once again in the real world. Jack is confronted with an alien world he has no
understanding of — here Donoghue demonstrates a deep understanding of children
and the unique psychology that allows for their understanding and processing
the world around them. Meanwhile Joy reunites with her parents (Joan Allen and
William H. Macy), and finds it impossible to slip back into her role as their
child after so much time spent raising her own. Jack, whom Joy cares about and
loves deeply, will on some level always be a permanent reminder of the trauma
she went through. Even if she’s found a way to look past that, it’s clear that
others around her can’t — her father refuses to even look at the boy.
“Room” wouldn’t work nearly as well as it does
without its two astonishing lead performances; the film is nothing if not
beautifully acted. Jacob Tremblay is a wonder, demonstrating a subtlety well
beyond his years. Larson is one of the most versatile performers of her age,
she’s been delivering great performances for years, but has somehow remained
under the radar. Playing a character who’s been through far too much hardship
for her relatively short time on earth, Larson has been justifiably earning
quite a bit of Oscar talk for her exceptional performance.
Lenny
Abrahamson has a remarkable way with actors, and he’s skillful in the way that
he allows us to understand Joy’s victimization, while never dwelling on it. The
film’s sometimes shattering power comes from the way in which it confronts the
darkest aspects of humanity, but by focusing on the nurturing love between
mother and son, what we’re left with is ultimately a sense of hopefulness.
This article appears in Nov 18-24, 2015.
