Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang
Tightly enclosed,
confined-location dramas seem to have become a minor rage.
It may have started back in 2002,
when Colin Farrell was trapped in Phone
Booth. More recently, though, we’ve agonized while Ryan Reynolds tried to
escape from an underground coffin, in Buried;
and played invisible back-seat passenger while Tom Hardy spent 85 minutes in a
car, in Locke.
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| Nothing goes to waste, in the tiny, isolated space that represents the entire universe for Ma (Brie Larson) and young Jack (Jacob Tremblay). Thus, after gathering enough egg shells, they naturally appoint their "home" with a decorative chain. |
On a superficial level, Room would appear to belong in their
company. But I actually wonder if scripter Emma Donoghue — who adapted her own
best-selling 2010 novel — is familiar with Ray Bradbury’s similarly chilling
“Jack-in-the-Box,” which debuted in the fantasy master’s 1947 short story
collection Dark Carnival.
A few similarities are striking,
but possibly coincidental. And Donoghue definitely takes her narrative into a
vastly different direction, which is more in keeping with modern-day horrors.
In fact, she acknowledges being inspired by the ghastly, real-life behavior of
Josef Fritzl, an Austrian man whose conduct was exposed in 2008. (Research at
your own peril.)
Most striking, though, are the
starring performances by Brie Larson and young Jacob Tremblay, who carry the
first half of this disturbing tale almost entirely on their own. Dublin-born
director Lenny Abrahamson draws quite intense performances from both, and
Tremblay is particularly fine: thoroughly credible as a just-turned 5-year-old
boy forced to experience the world — actually, “a” world — in a manner no child
should have to endure.
A typical dawn awakens Jack
(Tremblay), introduced in tight close-up as he quietly shrugs out of sheet and
blanket; the camera pulls back to reveal that he shares the bed with his mother
(Larson), whom he calls “Ma.” She rises, prepares breakfast, and we note the
presence of the bed, a sink, a toilet, a bathtub, a wardrobe, table and chairs,
and a rudimentary kitchen ... all in the same 11-by-11-foot space.
The morning progresses through
various activities designed to keep Jack engaged. We take in Ma’s behavior:
overly bright and cheerful, with an exaggerated enthusiasm that cannot fully
conceal the weary, beaten resignation in her eyes. Details pile atop each
other: the sallow complexions of these two people, the way in which Jack
exhibits no curiosity about anything beyond these four walls...
...these four walls which are the
extent of their entire universe.
