Room

This year’s most personal yet!


Room

  • This year’s most personal yet!

Room

  • This year’s most personal yet!


Rated

R

Starring

Brie Larson
Jacob Tremblay
Sean Bridgers
William H. Macy
Joan Allen

Written by

Emma Donoghue

Directed by

Lenny Abrahamson




What to Expect

Room opened the 12th Dubai International Film Festival.

And the choice of a movie couldn’t be more right for an event like this. The likes of Lenny Abrahamsson (Frank) and Brie Larson (Short Term 12) attach, alongside themselves, a lot of expectations to the film. This time, it isn’t exactly about expectations being met however. It’s also about whether they manage to deliver a solid film that reaches the darkest cores of viewers’ hearts.

It did a lot more than just reach however.

What’s it About?

The story starts from Jack’s fifth birthday. Television. Ma. Room. Life. Sunday Treat. Everything seems normal. Until viewers are really made to realize they’ve been kidnapped before Jack’s birth, and Jack (Jacob Tremblay) and his “Ma” Joy (Larson) have spent five years in what the latter has begun to dub “Room”.

One fine day, Joy decides enough is enough, and strives to hatch an escape plan. But that’s not what the movie really is all about.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Escape

Escape

One of the main elements of this film is how unapologetically dreary it is. This doesn’t, for a second, mean that the dreariness has been dramatized to play with viewers’ heartstrings. Writer Emma Donaghue (who adapts her own novel for her screenplay) understands how important it is to keep events simple to give a more long-term emotional payoff. This is the cleverest thing any writer can have done, for once there’s a glimmer of happiness, it manages to hit you like a ton of bricks.

And one of the best things about the end-product is that Lenny Abrahamson is perfectly capable of understanding the soul behind Donaghue’s words. Every single character is written in – and also disappears should the moment arrive – for a reason. This can definitely be taken as a severe flaw by some, but a very convincing argument against it is the fact that viewers are presented a point of view – that of Jack, the five-year old kid who’s still discovering himself and the vicinities around him. This explicitly needs to be understood before any possibly unfair judgment on the film’s narrative decisions are made.

Of course, some of these characters’ inclusions and exclusions are rather abrupt. Joy’s father appears for all of ten minutes, and there’s practically nothing you feel for him. His shortcomings make him human, but viewers aren’t completely allowed to connect with his character before his unceremonious exit. This particular thread needed stronger establishment. Then again, of course, this (at really spare moments) gets into the tone of what formulaic indie dramas feel like. Not that it’s a bad thing; no. For all that bare-bones realism, however, we needed lesser of those moments.

A perhaps exceptional talent the film has is to make sure what we see perfectly blends in with what the people in the story we witness do. Achievable through some striking cinematography, we’re given a first-person and third-person view; the former is highly applicable at certain moments through Tremblay’s voice-over narration of Jack’s wondrous musings. Danny Cohen deserves a lot of the credit in making the film as commendably photographed as possible, without any possible inconsistency in visual technicalities. Give it the deft hand of Nathan Nugent’s deft edit decisions, and you’re presented a sharp film; one that spends no time in getting straight to the point, whilst also managing to rip you apart.

None of that, however, can ever be functional enough without Stephen Rennick’s brilliant soundtrack. That layer has the power to completely change even the simplest of scenes. The score, fortunately, is sparsely used. It gives time for quiet scenes to retain that much deserved silence, and allows for a more skillful manipulation of the audience.

To Perform or Not to Perform

Hope

Hope

It’s not always that you come up with an actor that has the gall to do everything they can to bring a performance to justice. With Room, viewers witness the reaffirmation of Brie Larson’s incredible talent. Through its entirety, Larson manages to replace herself entirely with the joyless Joy. This is a brilliant performance, where you’re witness to the nuances of a person who has almost given up in life. The practiced smiles to her son, the lifeless face-of-acceptance — it all fits so brilliantly, never once looking studied. Her performance is probably one of the most organic ones I’ve come to witness in recent times. Her tour de force is almost entirely why the movie works just the way it does.

Larson’s equal is nine-year old Jacob Tremblay, who turns in a surprisingly effective performance too. He’s sharp, and works just how a kid is supposed to work; no smart quips, no over-intelligence for the age. He’s a kid through the eyes of who we see the film, and it was an extremely important decision for the makers to choose a kid whose performance would allow viewers to root for him. Tremblay, in that regard, is perfect.

The third biggest player of the film is Joan Allen, who is just fantastic as Joy’s mother. She has her own story (which thankfully isn’t revealed in favor of a more streamlined perspective), and her own struggle, which you could feel only through her body language. The exhibition of stress is a rather complicated act on screen — actors always have to walk a tightrope between study and artifice — and Allen has made a good job of walking the rope with extreme confidence. She might not have the kind of weight the film’s two key players do, but she’s strong enough to be recognized in her own way.

William H. Macy turns in an alright act. Sean Bridgers is possibly the most fascinating of all performances, primarily for how he’s able to plate out the complex dimensions of a kidnapper. There are psychopathic tendencies within the character we’re to know as Old Nick in the first few minutes of the film — gas-lighting and intimidation to be amongst the most prominent of the  characteristics. The best part of this is the casting directors chose not to go with an antagonistic face. Bridges looks like your average guy, which makes the danger feel all the more real, all the more urgent.

Worth it?

This movie may not be an entirely perfect one. It is, however, one of the strongest, most emotionally relevant ones viewers have been treated to this year. An absolute must watch, Room deserves your money; all of it. It deserves to be watched for Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay. It deserves to be watched because of Lenny Abrahamson and Emma Donaghue. Most of all, however, it deserves all of your love because it’s probably one of the more personal movies on trauma I’ve seen all year.

Recommended.

Consensus: 4 Stars
Impressive!
About the Author

Ankit Ojha

Facebook

Ambivert. Intermittent cynic. Content creator. New media enthusiast. Binge-watcher. Budding filmmaker.

Watch the trailer

We’re viral

Like UsFollow Us


Rated

R

Starring

Brie Larson
Jacob Tremblay
Sean Bridgers
William H. Macy
Joan Allen

Written by

Emma Donoghue

Directed by

Lenny Abrahamson




What to Expect

Room opened the 12th Dubai International Film Festival.

And the choice of a movie couldn’t be more right for an event like this. The likes of Lenny Abrahamsson (Frank) and Brie Larson (Short Term 12) attach, alongside themselves, a lot of expectations to the film. This time, it isn’t exactly about expectations being met however. It’s also about whether they manage to deliver a solid film that reaches the darkest cores of viewers’ hearts.

It did a lot more than just reach however.

What’s it About?

The story starts from Jack’s fifth birthday. Television. Ma. Room. Life. Sunday Treat. Everything seems normal. Until viewers are really made to realize they’ve been kidnapped before Jack’s birth, and Jack (Jacob Tremblay) and his “Ma” Joy (Larson) have spent five years in what the latter has begun to dub “Room”.

One fine day, Joy decides enough is enough, and strives to hatch an escape plan. But that’s not what the movie really is all about.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Escape

Escape

One of the main elements of this film is how unapologetically dreary it is. This doesn’t, for a second, mean that the dreariness has been dramatized to play with viewers’ heartstrings. Writer Emma Donaghue (who adapts her own novel for her screenplay) understands how important it is to keep events simple to give a more long-term emotional payoff. This is the cleverest thing any writer can have done, for once there’s a glimmer of happiness, it manages to hit you like a ton of bricks.

And one of the best things about the end-product is that Lenny Abrahamson is perfectly capable of understanding the soul behind Donaghue’s words. Every single character is written in – and also disappears should the moment arrive – for a reason. This can definitely be taken as a severe flaw by some, but a very convincing argument against it is the fact that viewers are presented a point of view – that of Jack, the five-year old kid who’s still discovering himself and the vicinities around him. This explicitly needs to be understood before any possibly unfair judgment on the film’s narrative decisions are made.

Of course, some of these characters’ inclusions and exclusions are rather abrupt. Joy’s father appears for all of ten minutes, and there’s practically nothing you feel for him. His shortcomings make him human, but viewers aren’t completely allowed to connect with his character before his unceremonious exit. This particular thread needed stronger establishment. Then again, of course, this (at really spare moments) gets into the tone of what formulaic indie dramas feel like. Not that it’s a bad thing; no. For all that bare-bones realism, however, we needed lesser of those moments.

A perhaps exceptional talent the film has is to make sure what we see perfectly blends in with what the people in the story we witness do. Achievable through some striking cinematography, we’re given a first-person and third-person view; the former is highly applicable at certain moments through Tremblay’s voice-over narration of Jack’s wondrous musings. Danny Cohen deserves a lot of the credit in making the film as commendably photographed as possible, without any possible inconsistency in visual technicalities. Give it the deft hand of Nathan Nugent’s deft edit decisions, and you’re presented a sharp film; one that spends no time in getting straight to the point, whilst also managing to rip you apart.

None of that, however, can ever be functional enough without Stephen Rennick’s brilliant soundtrack. That layer has the power to completely change even the simplest of scenes. The score, fortunately, is sparsely used. It gives time for quiet scenes to retain that much deserved silence, and allows for a more skillful manipulation of the audience.

To Perform or Not to Perform

Hope

Hope

It’s not always that you come up with an actor that has the gall to do everything they can to bring a performance to justice. With Room, viewers witness the reaffirmation of Brie Larson’s incredible talent. Through its entirety, Larson manages to replace herself entirely with the joyless Joy. This is a brilliant performance, where you’re witness to the nuances of a person who has almost given up in life. The practiced smiles to her son, the lifeless face-of-acceptance — it all fits so brilliantly, never once looking studied. Her performance is probably one of the most organic ones I’ve come to witness in recent times. Her tour de force is almost entirely why the movie works just the way it does.

Larson’s equal is nine-year old Jacob Tremblay, who turns in a surprisingly effective performance too. He’s sharp, and works just how a kid is supposed to work; no smart quips, no over-intelligence for the age. He’s a kid through the eyes of who we see the film, and it was an extremely important decision for the makers to choose a kid whose performance would allow viewers to root for him. Tremblay, in that regard, is perfect.

The third biggest player of the film is Joan Allen, who is just fantastic as Joy’s mother. She has her own story (which thankfully isn’t revealed in favor of a more streamlined perspective), and her own struggle, which you could feel only through her body language. The exhibition of stress is a rather complicated act on screen — actors always have to walk a tightrope between study and artifice — and Allen has made a good job of walking the rope with extreme confidence. She might not have the kind of weight the film’s two key players do, but she’s strong enough to be recognized in her own way.

William H. Macy turns in an alright act. Sean Bridgers is possibly the most fascinating of all performances, primarily for how he’s able to plate out the complex dimensions of a kidnapper. There are psychopathic tendencies within the character we’re to know as Old Nick in the first few minutes of the film — gas-lighting and intimidation to be amongst the most prominent of the  characteristics. The best part of this is the casting directors chose not to go with an antagonistic face. Bridges looks like your average guy, which makes the danger feel all the more real, all the more urgent.

Worth it?

This movie may not be an entirely perfect one. It is, however, one of the strongest, most emotionally relevant ones viewers have been treated to this year. An absolute must watch, Room deserves your money; all of it. It deserves to be watched for Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay. It deserves to be watched because of Lenny Abrahamson and Emma Donaghue. Most of all, however, it deserves all of your love because it’s probably one of the more personal movies on trauma I’ve seen all year.

Recommended.

Consensus: X Stars
Impressive!
About the Author

Ankit Ojha

Facebook

Ambivert. Intermittent cynic. Content creator. New media enthusiast. Binge-watcher. Budding filmmaker.

Watch the trailer

We’re viral

Like UsFollow Us

Cast Brie Larson
Jacob Tremblay
Joan Allen
Director Lenny Abrahamson
Consensus: 4 Stars
Impressive!

What to Expect

Life

Life

Room opened the 12th Dubai International Film Festival.

And the choice of a movie couldn’t be more right for an event like this. The likes of Lenny Abrahamsson (Frank) and Brie Larson (Short Term 12) attach, alongside themselves, a lot of expectations to the film. This time, it isn’t exactly about expectations being met however. It’s also about whether they manage to deliver a solid film that reaches the darkest cores of viewers’ hearts.

It did a lot more than just reach however.

What’s it About?

The story starts from Jack’s fifth birthday. Television. Ma. Room. Life. Sunday Treat. Everything seems normal. Until viewers are really made to realize they’ve been kidnapped before Jack’s birth, and Jack (Jacob Tremblay) and his “Ma” Joy (Larson) have spent five years in what the latter has begun to dub “Room”.

One fine day, Joy decides enough is enough, and strives to hatch an escape plan. But that’s not what the movie really is all about.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Escape

Escape

One of the main elements of this film is how unapologetically dreary it is. This doesn’t, for a second, mean that the dreariness has been dramatized to play with viewers’ heartstrings. Writer Emma Donaghue (who adapts her own novel for her screenplay) understands how important it is to keep events simple to give a more long-term emotional payoff. This is the cleverest thing any writer can have done, for once there’s a glimmer of happiness, it manages to hit you like a ton of bricks.

And one of the best things about the end-product is that Lenny Abrahamson is perfectly capable of understanding the soul behind Donaghue’s words. Every single character is written in – and also disappears should the moment arrive – for a reason. This can definitely be taken as a severe flaw by some, but a very convincing argument against it is the fact that viewers are presented a point of view – that of Jack, the five-year old kid who’s still discovering himself and the vicinities around him. This explicitly needs to be understood before any possibly unfair judgment on the film’s narrative decisions are made.

Of course, some of these characters’ inclusions and exclusions are rather abrupt. Joy’s father appears for all of ten minutes, and there’s practically nothing you feel for him. His shortcomings make him human, but viewers aren’t completely allowed to connect with his character before his unceremonious exit. This particular thread needed stronger establishment. Then again, of course, this (at really spare moments) gets into the tone of what formulaic indie dramas feel like. Not that it’s a bad thing; no. For all that bare-bones realism, however, we needed lesser of those moments.

A perhaps exceptional talent the film has is to make sure what we see perfectly blends in with what the people in the story we witness do. Achievable through some striking cinematography, we’re given a first-person and third-person view; the former is highly applicable at certain moments through Tremblay’s voice-over narration of Jack’s wondrous musings. Danny Cohen deserves a lot of the credit in making the film as commendably photographed as possible, without any possible inconsistency in visual technicalities. Give it the deft hand of Nathan Nugent’s deft edit decisions, and you’re presented a sharp film; one that spends no time in getting straight to the point, whilst also managing to rip you apart.

None of that, however, can ever be functional enough without Stephen Rennick’s brilliant soundtrack. That layer has the power to completely change even the simplest of scenes. The score, fortunately, is sparsely used. It gives time for quiet scenes to retain that much deserved silence, and allows for a more skillful manipulation of the audience.

To Perform or Not to Perform

Hope

Hope

It’s not always that you come up with an actor that has the gall to do everything they can to bring a performance to justice. With Room, viewers witness the reaffirmation of Brie Larson’s incredible talent. Through its entirety, Larson manages to replace herself entirely with the joyless Joy. This is a brilliant performance, where you’re witness to the nuances of a person who has almost given up in life. The practiced smiles to her son, the lifeless face-of-acceptance — it all fits so brilliantly, never once looking studied. Her performance is probably one of the most organic ones I’ve come to witness in recent times. Her tour de force is almost entirely why the movie works just the way it does.

Larson’s equal is nine-year old Jacob Tremblay, who turns in a surprisingly effective performance too. He’s sharp, and works just how a kid is supposed to work; no smart quips, no over-intelligence for the age. He’s a kid through the eyes of who we see the film, and it was an extremely important decision for the makers to choose a kid whose performance would allow viewers to root for him. Tremblay, in that regard, is perfect.

The third biggest player of the film is Joan Allen, who is just fantastic as Joy’s mother. She has her own story (which thankfully isn’t revealed in favor of a more streamlined perspective), and her own struggle, which you could feel only through her body language. The exhibition of stress is a rather complicated act on screen — actors always have to walk a tightrope between study and artifice — and Allen has made a good job of walking the rope with extreme confidence. She might not have the kind of weight the film’s two key players do, but she’s strong enough to be recognized in her own way.

William H. Macy turns in an alright act. Sean Bridgers is possibly the most fascinating of all performances, primarily for how he’s able to plate out the complex dimensions of a kidnapper. There are psychopathic tendencies within the character we’re to know as Old Nick in the first few minutes of the film — gas-lighting and intimidation to be amongst the most prominent of the  characteristics. The best part of this is the casting directors chose not to go with an antagonistic face. Bridges looks like your average guy, which makes the danger feel all the more real, all the more urgent.

Worth it?

This movie may not be an entirely perfect one. It is, however, one of the strongest, most emotionally relevant ones viewers have been treated to this year. An absolute must watch, Room deserves your money; all of it. It deserves to be watched for Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay. It deserves to be watched because of Lenny Abrahamson and Emma Donaghue. Most of all, however, it deserves all of your love because it’s probably one of the more personal movies on trauma I’ve seen all year.

Recommended.

About the Author

Ankit Ojha

Facebook

Ambivert. Intermittent cynic. Content creator. New media enthusiast. Binge-watcher. Budding filmmaker.

We’re viral

Like usFollow us
Cast Brie Larson
Jacob Tremblay
Joan Allen
Director Lenny Abrahamson
Consensus: 4 Stars
Impressive!

What to Expect

Room opened the 12th Dubai International Film Festival.

And the choice of a movie couldn’t be more right for an event like this. The likes of Lenny Abrahamsson (Frank) and Brie Larson (Short Term 12) attach, alongside themselves, a lot of expectations to the film. This time, it isn’t exactly about expectations being met however. It’s also about whether they manage to deliver a solid film that reaches the darkest cores of viewers’ hearts.

It did a lot more than just reach however.

What’s it About?

The story starts from Jack’s fifth birthday. Television. Ma. Room. Life. Sunday Treat. Everything seems normal. Until viewers are really made to realize they’ve been kidnapped before Jack’s birth, and Jack (Jacob Tremblay) and his “Ma” Joy (Larson) have spent five years in what the latter has begun to dub “Room”.

One fine day, Joy decides enough is enough, and strives to hatch an escape plan. But that’s not what the movie really is all about.

Escape

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

One of the main elements of this film is how unapologetically dreary it is. This doesn’t, for a second, mean that the dreariness has been dramatized to play with viewers’ heartstrings. Writer Emma Donaghue (who adapts her own novel for her screenplay) understands how important it is to keep events simple to give a more long-term emotional payoff. This is the cleverest thing any writer can have done, for once there’s a glimmer of happiness, it manages to hit you like a ton of bricks.

And one of the best things about the end-product is that Lenny Abrahamson is perfectly capable of understanding the soul behind Donaghue’s words. Every single character is written in – and also disappears should the moment arrive – for a reason. This can definitely be taken as a severe flaw by some, but a very convincing argument against it is the fact that viewers are presented a point of view – that of Jack, the five-year old kid who’s still discovering himself and the vicinities around him. This explicitly needs to be understood before any possibly unfair judgment on the film’s narrative decisions are made.

Of course, some of these characters’ inclusions and exclusions are rather abrupt. Joy’s father appears for all of ten minutes, and there’s practically nothing you feel for him. His shortcomings make him human, but viewers aren’t completely allowed to connect with his character before his unceremonious exit. This particular thread needed stronger establishment. Then again, of course, this (at really spare moments) gets into the tone of what formulaic indie dramas feel like. Not that it’s a bad thing; no. For all that bare-bones realism, however, we needed lesser of those moments.

A perhaps exceptional talent the film has is to make sure what we see perfectly blends in with what the people in the story we witness do. Achievable through some striking cinematography, we’re given a first-person and third-person view; the former is highly applicable at certain moments through Tremblay’s voice-over narration of Jack’s wondrous musings. Danny Cohen deserves a lot of the credit in making the film as commendably photographed as possible, without any possible inconsistency in visual technicalities. Give it the deft hand of Nathan Nugent’s deft edit decisions, and you’re presented a sharp film; one that spends no time in getting straight to the point, whilst also managing to rip you apart.

None of that, however, can ever be functional enough without Stephen Rennick’s brilliant soundtrack. That layer has the power to completely change even the simplest of scenes. The score, fortunately, is sparsely used. It gives time for quiet scenes to retain that much deserved silence, and allows for a more skillful manipulation of the audience.

The mastermind and his match

To Perform or Not to Perform

It’s not always that you come up with an actor that has the gall to do everything they can to bring a performance to justice. With Room, viewers witness the reaffirmation of Brie Larson’s incredible talent. Through its entirety, Larson manages to replace herself entirely with the joyless Joy. This is a brilliant performance, where you’re witness to the nuances of a person who has almost given up in life. The practiced smiles to her son, the lifeless face-of-acceptance — it all fits so brilliantly, never once looking studied. Her performance is probably one of the most organic ones I’ve come to witness in recent times. Her tour de force is almost entirely why the movie works just the way it does.

Larson’s equal is nine-year old Jacob Tremblay, who turns in a surprisingly effective performance too. He’s sharp, and works just how a kid is supposed to work; no smart quips, no over-intelligence for the age. He’s a kid through the eyes of who we see the film, and it was an extremely important decision for the makers to choose a kid whose performance would allow viewers to root for him. Tremblay, in that regard, is perfect.

The third biggest player of the film is Joan Allen, who is just fantastic as Joy’s mother. She has her own story (which thankfully isn’t revealed in favor of a more streamlined perspective), and her own struggle, which you could feel only through her body language. The exhibition of stress is a rather complicated act on screen — actors always have to walk a tightrope between study and artifice — and Allen has made a good job of walking the rope with extreme confidence. She might not have the kind of weight the film’s two key players do, but she’s strong enough to be recognized in her own way.

William H. Macy turns in an alright act. Sean Bridgers is possibly the most fascinating of all performances, primarily for how he’s able to plate out the complex dimensions of a kidnapper. There are psychopathic tendencies within the character we’re to know as Old Nick in the first few minutes of the film — gas-lighting and intimidation to be amongst the most prominent of the  characteristics. The best part of this is the casting directors chose not to go with an antagonistic face. Bridges looks like your average guy, which makes the danger feel all the more real, all the more urgent.

Worth it?

This movie may not be an entirely perfect one. It is, however, one of the strongest, most emotionally relevant ones viewers have been treated to this year. An absolute must watch, Room deserves your money; all of it. It deserves to be watched for Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay. It deserves to be watched because of Lenny Abrahamson and Emma Donaghue. Most of all, however, it deserves all of your love because it’s probably one of the more personal movies on trauma I’ve seen all year.

Recommended.

About the Author

Ankit Ojha

Facebook

Ambivert. Intermittent cynic. Content creator. New media enthusiast. Binge-watcher. Budding filmmaker.

Share this Post

Leave a Reply