Room portrays a conflict of two forces: one born free, the other in captivity – a film that haunts you after you leave the cinema and reminds you of the value of a breath in the crisp fresh air.
A small room is all that Jack (Jacob Tremblay), 5, knows. Her mother “Ma” in her early 20s, played by Brie Larson, was once allured by a perverted maniac, who robbed her freedom and captured and confined her to the space of a few square metres. He raped her and, so, Jack was born.
Ma has successfully wrapped everything their small TV with bad picture broadcasts into magic and fairy tales. It’s best for Jack, she thinks . . . the mental oppression, and the knowledge of the real world, she bares on her shoulders, is nothing a child should handle.
Larson’s act as a character filled with pain and a pinch of hope and the will of protecting her son with whatever it takes is phenomenal. Jack is hope. Hope is Jack.
The film balances between the view of the child, where a dry dead leaf is all it takes to spark the imagination. Another fine day in the room. The next minute, the story slaps you in the face; you can almost smell the bad breath and sweat when the devil enters the room and the camera zooms from behind a tiny hole of a closet where Jack sleeps in.
At one point the film becomes almost unbearable, you are squeezing the armrests of the seat until your nails bleed, hoping that Jack and Ma find a way to escape.
Room, directed by Lenny Abrahamson and based on Emma Donoghue’s international best-seller of the same name, is a masterpiece, an Oscar-nominee in 4 categories, a powerful contender for the Best Actress in a Leading Role, Directing, Adapted Screenplay and Best Picture.
Room opens in cinemas on February 26.