Room’s premise is interesting enough that, even if it were a complete failure, it would be worth seeing. The film is presented entirely from the viewpoint of Jack, a five-year-old boy who has lived his entire life inside a garden shed. His concept of reality is what he can physically touch inside of Room. Anything outside exists in “outer space,” and all of the people and places he sees on television are simply unreal. The psychological state is both fascinating and completely believable, but also prevents him from understanding how dire his situation is: he’s being held captive along with his mother by a psychopathic rapist who also happens to be his own biological father.
By presenting the story from Jack’s point of view, the film plays with the discrepancy between what we understand to be happening and the actual narration. Jack talks excitedly about the TV world, and the other planets with dinosaurs and dogs and all of the other things that he knows don’t actually exist, yet as an audience we feel constrained and discomforted by the tiny room that represents all of Jack’s known existence. As for his mother, we know what’s happening every night when “Old Nick” pays her a visit, and we understand what she’s talking about when she explains her kidnapping story to her son. But Jack doesn’t, so when he explodes at his mother and calls her a “liar,” we empathize more with her than our narrator.
These scenes are even more tragic because of how well-played they are by Brie Larson as Jack’s mother. Larson puts in one of her best performances to date, telegraphing her character’s emotional state just as effectively with small glances and twitches as she does in her outbursts. Despite the fact that she’s not the central character in the movie, she is its emotional rock and the closest thing it has to an audience surrogate. It’s no wonder that Larson is a Best Actress frontrunner this year; she’s great, it’s a dynamic role, and to everybody who missed Short Term 12, her performance is a revelation.
If I have one complaint about Room, it’s that once the film actually leaves the titular room, it’s a bit lacking in narrative direction. The audience spends the first half yearning for the characters to escape, and for Jack to see the real world, but once they’re out, things progress pretty much as you’d expect. They have some difficulty adjusting, but their story is neither a tragedy nor a triumph. That’s a respectable direction to go, and it feels more true-to-life than it otherwise might, but it is perhaps less dramatically compelling. There’s little in the latter half of the movie that I didn’t get from the trailer.
Still, Room is certainly unique among the “Best Picture” hopefuls, telling a difficult story through a unique lens. It’s a great concept that is further heightened by its terrific central performances, and far more intriguing than the typical “Oscar bait” movie fans are inundated with at this time of year.