Avis des critiques

[A] free and fabulous adaptation... Pedro Almodóvar knows how to utilise the charms of a fairy tale to speak about the most urgent concerns in a way that is still comforting. His films and this one in particular embrace the possibility of change.

Stunning in all elements of design and performance, The Room Next Door is another wonderful entry among Almodóvar’s filmography, even if it doesn’t rank among his strongest works... [It] feels beholden to popular notions of Almodóvar’s visual flair, which keep it from rising to its full potential.

The heightened melodrama in all of his work has also been translated in a manner that’s irked some critics who claim the dialogue [in The Room Next Door] doesn’t sound natural—I would counter by saying the same is true of his Spanish films. Almodóvar makes movies that don’t disguise their artifice—they lean into it and use it to break your heart apart.

The Room Next Door is not a political commentary on the right to die with dignity nor a debate over the morality of euthanasia. Instead, it is a heartfelt portrait of friendship: its cozy familiarity, deep warmth, and inevitable sense of unknowability.

The Room Next Door is an alternately rapturous and ponderous meditation on mortality, though in a very Almodóvarian fashion, that exploration comes by way of a fantasy of set directing one’s own death, down to the moment, location, and outfit worn.

A bit of emotion feels lost in translation from Almodóvar’s native tongue, resulting in dialogue that feels a bit stilted and lacking in the passion of his Spanish-language scripts... Still, it’s undoubtedly invigorating to have a filmmaker of Almodóvar’s stature and pedigree trying to see a beginning in the end.

[The Room Next Door] blends European flair with a twist of Americana, and in a surprise shift, gets political in the process. Climate change, neo-liberal and far-right thinking are used to paint a picture of a world going to hell. Bet you never expected that from the Spanish great.

In The Room Next Door, melodrama and theatricality are tamped down, resulting in a very measured drama about life, death and the responsibilities of friendship that at times risks becoming an arid intellectual exercise. Without two such accomplished lead actors, it’s doubtful this would work at all.

For a story which ponders on late-life exhaustion and loss of curiosity and pleasure, The Room Next Door strikes a defiant blow against ennui, staking out new territory for the director... It features a superbly matched duo of Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore, both on authoritative and moving form, while [Almodovar's] formal and visual meticulousness is as finely honed as always – even if perilously verging on lifestyle chic.

There is something not quite right about this one Almodóvar film, a dramedy that emulates all that makes a story Almodovarian but bypasses its essence entirely... “The Room Next Door” [is] a surprisingly vapid case of style over substance, unable to mask its tameness under the smokescreen of a peculiar premise.

If at first The Room Next Door may not initially feel like an Almodóvar film, his crew quickly coalesces on his wavelength, perhaps aided most significantly by production designer Inbal Weinberg, who whips up one of his most sumptuous color coded schemes ever.

At first the movie’s tone feels a little strange, untethered to any easily identifiable genre... [It] is a bit somber—almost like a black comedy, but not quite... And yet, by the end, something almost mystical has happened: the movie’s final moments usher in a kind of twilight, a state of grace that you don't see coming.