Room

Room is a disquieting psychological drama about a mother and son living through a harrowing ordeal. Without divulging too many particulars of the premise or plot, I’ll say that although Room's story explores disturbing themes, it's not an especially difficult movie to watch, and therein lies its chief flaw. Based on the acclaimed novel by Emma Donoghue, who also wrote the screenplay, Room succeeds as both an engrossing character study and a showcase of exceptional acting, but it lacks the emotional weight that its subject matter ought to have. 

I’ve not read Donoghue’s novel, but I can easily imagine this material possessing more mystery and empathy in prose form because it’s told through the eyes of an innocent, five-year-old protagonist. Donoghue and director Lenny Abrahamson (Frank, What Richard Did) maintain this point of view in the movie, which centers on young, guileless Jack (Jacob Tremblay). Presenting this story from the boy's perspective is a distinctive choice, but I felt oddly detached from both Jack and his mother (Brie Larson). Despite the intimate nature of the first half, which is limited to the titular room that has been Jack’s whole world for his entire life, we feel more like clinical observers of this particular mother and son than participants in their story. This sensation of distance does not change in the second half, after new characters and events expand Jack's world to unprecedented dimensions. 

Perhaps it would take a director like Lynne Ramsay or even Michael Haneke to give this story the uncomfortable sting it should have. Or maybe the limitation is inherent in the cinematic medium itself; in order to fully connect with these characters and for their situation to hit us on a gut level, we need to live with them for longer at the beginning than is feasible for a typical movie. Novels have more breathing room and more structural freedom. We intrinsically experience thoughts and emotions with the people in books, whereas movies must find ways to externalize their characters' inner lives. 

Fortunately, the impeccable cast keeps Room compelling throughout the entire picture. As the damaged but resilient Joy Newsome, Brie Larson is magnificent. She's been toiling in near obscurity in both indie and mainstream films for over fifteen years, but at long last she's gotten a role that will put her on the map. Her performance in Room can't quite match her star turn in 2013’s under-seen Short Term 12, but I'm certain this will be her breakthrough. Joan Allen soars in yet another nuanced and distinctive supporting part, and although William H. Macy and Tom McCamus have fewer scenes to work with, their quiet, dignified screen personas enrich the picture. But in the end, the picture belongs to nine year-old Jacob Tremblay, who plays Jack. His unaffected performance is one of the best I've ever seen by a child actor.