“The Room Next Door” (“La habitación de al lado”) (2024). Cast: Julianne Moore, Tilda Swinton, John Turturro, Alessandro Nivola, Alex Høgh Andersen, Victoria Luengo, Esther McGregor, Sarah Demeestere, Melina Matthews, Juan Diego Botto, Raúl Arévalo, Paolo Luka Noé, Alvise Rigo. Director: Pedro Almódovar. Screenplay: Pedro Almódovar. Book: Sigrid Nunez, What Are You Going Through? (2020). Web site. Trailer.

Choice is arguably the most precious personal resource that we possess. It makes so much possible, and it provides us with so many opportunities to seek the fulfillment of what we hold most dear. Because of that, however, there may well be times when what we choose to embrace and invoke won’t be agreeable to others. But, then, the choices in question are ours and fundamentally not subject to the approval of others, save for cases where their well-being might be placed in jeopardy. That even includes choices involving the direction that our own personal fate ultimately takes, again, no matter what others may have to say about it. Such is the question that’s called for a terminally ill woman in making her decision on whether or not to willfully continue her existence in light of what lies ahead, a deeply personal matter explored in the new end of life drama, “The Room Next Door” (“La habitación de al lado”).

Movies about the right to die through the practice of self-euthanasia or assisted suicide aren’t exactly new. Many have been filmed over the years, with the focus they take in their respective stories being the distinguishing factor among them. For example, in “Whose Life Is It Anyway?” (1981), an artist (Richard Dreyfuss) paralyzed from the neck down and unable to work anymore takes his case to court to affirm his desire to die. In “Blackbird” (2019) and “Everything Went Fine” (“Tout s’est bien passé”) (2021), loving family members wrestle with their feelings about helping their relatives pass on when hope for recovery is lost. And, in “You Don’t Know Jack” (2010), Al Pacino gives a stellar performance in the film biography of Dr. Jack Kevorkian (a.k.a., “Dr. Death”), who defied legal sanctions against him for his willingness to aid terminally ill patients in acts of physician-assisted suicide. In this latest offering in this genre, “The Room Next Door” examines the experiences of two longtime friends when one is asked to provide much-needed guidance, comfort and support to her dying companion when she willingly decides to transition before the agony she’s experiencing becomes intolerable.

While the particulars of these films vary from picture to picture, they all essentially deal with the same underlying concern – the right to die. Even more fundamentally, however, is the consideration that a decision of this nature represents – the right to choose one’s own destiny, regardless of what others think or feel. And, in this case, it’s brought home with a greater sense of poignancy than is generally the case in other offerings addressing the issue of choice given the magnitude of the viewpoints held by each of the protagonists.

Ingrid (Julianne Moore) and Martha (Tilda Swinton) have been friends for years. They first became acquainted when working as writers for the same magazine in New York City. Over time, however, their careers diverged, with each of them pursuing different paths. Ingrid became a book author, while Martha worked as an on-the-ground war correspondent. Because of their differing work choices, they seldom saw one another much in subsequent years, but, despite this, their emotional connection to one another hadn’t completely vanished.

Quite unexpectedly, however, the connection between the two old friends would become revived through somewhat unusual circumstances. While conducting a book signing for the release of her latest book, Ingrid is approached by a mutual friend (Sarah Demeestere), who informs her of Martha’s failing health. Ingrid is quite obviously stunned by this revelation, and it’s a reaction made even more unnerving than expected given that her new book is a first-person account of her profound apprehension regarding death. But, despite the unsettling nature of this news, their years of no contact and the fact that these circumstances bring Ingrid face to face with her deepest fear, she decides to pay Martha a visit to check in on her old friend to see if there’s anything she can do to help.

When Ingrid and Martha meet for the first time, Martha says that her doctors have assured her that her prognosis is hopeful, that she’s not on death’s doorstep just yet, news that clearly raises Ingrid’s spirits. Ingrid thus sees hope that their relationship can be renewed. And, subsequently, they begin spending a great deal of time together, reminiscing about the past, sharing stories about their respective experiences and exchanging confidences, some of which are depicted through a series of flashbacks.

However, as promising as circumstances may have looked initially, Martha subsequently receives disappointing news when she’s informed that her treatments have not been working as projected, a distressing development for both women. And it’s at this point, after the newfound resurgence in their friendship, that Martha shares a secret with Ingrid: In preparation for this despairing possibility, she has been quietly investigating what would be involved in taking her own life. Given her awareness of what would likely lie ahead if she were to continue carrying on as she has been, Martha acknowledges that she’s not willing to put herself through the pain, misery and suffering that invariably awaits her. She would rather exit this life on her time and her terms than allow herself to deteriorate further just to ease the feelings and beliefs of others in what she sees as an act of phony nobility. But, to embark on such a journey, Martha admits that she could use some help to carry out this plan, which is why she has now confided her wishes to Ingrid. Considering how close the two of them have grown recently, Martha would like Ingrid to accompany her on this last stage of her life.

Needless to say, the request leaves Ingrid uncomfortable. Given her fear of death, as outlined in her new book, this is a subject that fundamentally causes Ingrid great anxiety. But, now that she’s been asked to participate in a scenario in which death is being implemented intentionally, she’s even more troubled by the request. At the same time, though, Ingrid wants to be of help to a good friend in need and feels guilty about the prospect of refusing her friend’s appeal. She’s obviously conflicted about how to proceed, but she also knows that she can’t take forever to decide in light of Martha’s faltering condition and her determination to proceed with the process, regardless of whether Ingrid is involved.

Specifically, Martha is looking for someone to be nearby at the time of her passing, to keep her company during her transition. To carry out this task, she tells Ingrid that she has rented a vacation home in a beautiful location in the Hudson River Valley, a property surrounded by lush forests and comfortable surroundings. She has clandestinely acquired lethal medication for the procedure, which she says she will carry out in her bedroom. She tells Ingrid that, as long as the bedroom door is left open, she will still be alive. But, if Ingrid were to find the bedroom door closed, that will be a sign that she has proceeded with her plan. Even though Ingrid would not be in immediate physical proximity for her friend’s death, Martha admits that she would nevertheless take great comfort knowing that there would be someone close at hand in “the room next door.” Furthermore, Martha adds that the timing of the event will not be revealed in advance but that she will leave a note of explanation for authorities indicating that her “vacation partner” knew nothing of her intentions ahead of time, a means of protecting Ingrid from potential legal liabilities.

In addition, Martha asks that Ingrid contact her long-estranged daughter, Michelle, after her passing. The longstanding separation between mother and daughter is one of the subplots revealed in one of the aforementioned flashbacks. Even though Martha and Michelle haven’t been in contact for years, she wants her to know what happened in order to bring about a sense of closure, if for no other reason than her own peace of mind.

With these instructions so meticulously outlined, it would appear that Martha has planned out matters in exacting detail. All she needs now is Ingrid’s decision, which comes not long thereafter. Given that she can’t bring herself to turn her back on a friend in time of need, Ingrid relents and agrees to be the companion Martha is looking for. However, altruism aside, Ingrid is still unsettled about proceeding with this venture, an experience that will test her resolve, her innate fears and her ability to come through in a crisis, especially when developments take on unforeseen twists and turns along the way.

A lot has been asked of Ingrid in this situation. But, then, isn’t that one of the reasons why we have friends in the first place? And isn’t that especially true when it comes to supporting our loved ones in times of making and living out their choices, even if we disagree with them? That’s what both women are about to find out as events unfold in the room next door.

As this odyssey begins, Martha and Ingrid are embarking on both individual and collective journeys of discovery, all of them fundamentally based on their respective and joint choices. And those choices, in turn, are based on their mutual and individual beliefs. This is important in light of the role that those convictions play in how matters will play out, a product of the conscious creation process, the philosophy that makes such outcomes materialize. It’s unclear whether either Martha or Ingrid have heard of this school of thought, but, considering their highly introspective natures, it would seem they each have a good grasp on knowing themselves and what they believe, even if they aren’t totally aware of what will emerge – and what they will learn – from these internal explorations.

Based on how thoroughly she has organized her thoughts and investigated her options, Martha would appear to be comfortable with her choice and well acquainted with what she’s about to undertake. Considering that she’s been contemplating what will essentially be the final act of her existence, she’s quite clear in terms of how to go about it and accepting that it’s the right decision for her. And, considering the life she has led and the future she now faces, her reasoning for making this decision is understandable. For instance, as seen in the flashbacks, Martha’s life hasn’t always panned out as hoped for, having incurred her share of pain and disappointment, such as the emotional anguish that her younger self (Esther McGregor) experienced with the collapse of her relationship with the father of her child (Alex Høgh Andersen) and her subsequent estrangement from her daughter. And, having worked as a war correspondent, she undoubtedly saw plenty of humanity’s darker side, events that inevitably left an indelible mark on her consciousness. So, because of this background and her desire not to undergo further, prolonged discomfort, she’s determined to end her life on her terms, under conditions of her choosing.

Martha firmly believes that this is the right course to follow, regardless of what anyone else might think, and that she can successfully accomplish her goal in line with her wishes. She has planned this venture in tremendous detail, clearly envisioning how she would like it to unfold. For example, she has selected a lovely venue to carry out this act, and she has deliberately chosen someplace new so as not to unduly taint whatever fond memories she holds of beloved locations from her past. Indeed, this is an experience that she wants to transpire in exactly the ways she wants it to, and she has made quite the effort to see that through.

Ingrid, by contrast, is more conflicted with the choice she has made. She wants to be a good friend to Martha, but facing the prospect of death firsthand still troubles her. Admittedly, writing her most recent book represented a big step in owning this part of her shadow side, but witnessing a kindred’s passing from such an up-close perspective is something else altogether. No matter what courage she’s able to muster for this undertaking, she’s still plagued by beliefs peppered with doubt and uncertainty, prompting her to question if she’s doing the right thing, despite whatever personal growth and development she might glean from the experience.

Fortunately, Ingrid has managed to surround herself with a support network to help her sort out her feelings. Most notably, she calls on her old friend and onetime romantic interest, Damian (John Turturro) (who, ironically, was once romantically linked to Martha, too), when in need of guidance, reassurance and support. Similarly, she freely consults with an attorney (Melina Matthews) to provide advice when legal questions arise, a valuable ally at times when she’s approached by authorities, such as a fundamentalist police officer (Alessandro Nivola) investigating the circumstances of this situation. As most of us are likely to agree, having familiars around to back up our beliefs and validate our choices can work wonders under trying times like these, and she should be grateful for drawing them into her presence.

But, no matter what Martha and Ingrid might be going through individually, there are still their collective choices and beliefs to contend with as well. On some level, they have agreed to go through this experience together and, consciously or not, have formulated beliefs to accommodate the dynamics of that joint decision. In a big way, they’re acting as teachers for one another. Martha, for instance, is endeavoring to help Ingrid further overcome her fear of death. And Ingrid, for her part, is helping Martha to discover that there truly is goodness and empathy in the world and that it can be bestowed upon those who need it, when they most require it. Martha thus helps Ingrid to see that one’s passing can indeed be a beautiful experience, while Ingrid makes it possible for Martha to be enveloped in kindness at a time when it’s needed most, outcomes ultimately made possible by the mutually agreed-upon choices invoked by these two compassionately inspired collaborators. This naturally raises the question, can any of us imagine a more satisfying way to make an exit from this life, even if the idea defies the conventional wisdom?

To live or to die is a decision many of us are probably reluctant to address. The fear of this great unknown is enough to keep the notion at bay. But what if we were to find ourselves dealing with a terminal illness with little hope for the future? Would we be willing to nobly soldier on, knowing that our circumstances are only going to get worse, or would we choose to transition to what’s next with dignity on our own terms? That’s what renowned Spanish writer-director Pedro Almódovar explores in his latest feature offering (his first English language production), providing viewers with a thoughtful, profound yet practical and eminently moving take on a controversial subject that’s been surfacing more widely in public discourse of late. While the film periodically veers off onto somewhat unrelated narrative tangents and occasionally becomes a little too talky for its own good (qualities that often encroach upon the flow of Almódovar’s works), this is arguably one of the filmmaker’s finest efforts both in terms of the sensitivity employed in the treatment of its subject, as well as in raising questions about the validity and propriety of right to die matters. It’s particularly noteworthy for the superb performances of its two principals, both of whom turn in some of the best work of their careers, as evidenced by Swinton’s Golden Globe Award nomination for best lead actress in a drama, as well as for its vivid and stunningly gorgeous cinematography, whose vibrant images recall the paintings of Edward Hopper. Moreover, those staring down the kinds of circumstances faced by the characters in this film may well find valuable insights in what it has to say at a time when we may ourselves be lost for words. The film is available for streaming online.

It’s long been believed that none of us will know the specific time when we’ll pass, that it’s something entirely left up to fate. But must it be that way, especially if we face a difficult road ahead? Indeed, if we concertedly put our minds to our circumstances, we may conclude that leaving matters to chance might not be the wisest course, and “The Room Next Door” gives us much to ponder in that regard. Whatever we decide, we should all at least hope that the end comes in a way that suits us , that fulfills our choices– and that gives us the kind of send-off we desire on our journey to whatever comes next.

Copyright © 2025, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.