The Room Next Door

Emphasizing emotions over ethics, The Room Next Door skillfully navigates weighty themes without political interference.

Using a terminal diagnosis as its starting point, the first English-language feature for venerable Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodovar (Talk to Her) — bolstered by two committed portrayals — confronts mortality, motherhood, and fractured families layered with guilt and regret.

“It feels unnatural to me. I can’t accept that something alive has to die,” reasons successful author Ingrid (Julianne Moore) at a Manhattan book signing before learning, moments later, that ex-colleague Martha (Tilda Swinton) has been hospitalized with a serious illness.

The two have lost touch since their journalism days, but Ingrid pays a visit and discovers Martha, a former war correspondent, is receiving experimental treatments for cervical cancer.

Their reconnection prompts some reminiscing and catching up, particularly about a shared ex-boyfriend (John Turturro). As Martha’s health deteriorates, she makes a confession. She wants to end life on her own terms with a euthanasia pill, and needs Ingrid to accompany her during her final days at a remote cabin.

After Ingrid reluctantly agrees, Martha swings between optimistic anticipation and bitter self-loathing as she ponders her legacy, especially involving her estranged daughter. “I was never what a mother is supposed to be,” she laments.

As the plan unfolds, a palpable apprehension lingers beneath the surface. Ingrid is skeptical as Martha’s behavior becomes more erratic. What is she hiding? Are there legal ramifications?

It’s intriguing enough to hear these two erudite women relay anecdotes about their lives and their craft, although the melodramatic snippets that compose the flashbacks are hit-and-miss.

Almodovar’s screenplay, adapted from a 2020 novel by Sigrid Nunez, addresses the morality of the decision from each of their perspectives without passing judgment or making a heavy-handed statement. Still, we’re able to share the film’s humanity and compassion regarding the bleak circumstances.

The lived-in performances play off one another with conviction, balancing strength and vulnerability in characters who are both fragile and empowered. Along with some striking visual flourishes, the esteemed performers help to elevate the film during its more tedious stretches of dense dialogue.

The Room Next Door is not the first life-affirming movie about death, and it might ultimately fit better on stage. Still, it resonates with honesty and sincerity.

Rated PG-13, 106 minutes.