Recovering from effects of trauma can be just as difficult as enduring trauma
On January 22 and 23, Notre Dame’s DeBartolo Performing Arts Center screened director Lenny Abrahamson’s film Room (2015). Unique to many mother-child films, Room explores the relationship between Ma (Brie Larson) and her five-year-old son, Jack (Jacob Tremblay), a relationship that has developed solely within the four walls of an extremely small shed. At the age of 17, Ma was kidnapped by an older man whom she calls “Old Nick” and has been held captive for seven years in his backyard shed.
The film begins on the day of Jack’s fifth birthday. The viewer is introduced to “Room” when Jack wakes up and greets “bed,” “wardrobe,” “bathtub,” “eggshell snake,” “sink,” “TV,” “skylight,” and “oven,” the only large objects within the room. The story is primarily told through the voice and eyes of Jack, which makes the viewers feel as if they are seeing the world through the eyes of an innocent child.
Ma and Jack continue their day by doing what it seems they must do every day: eating dry cereal, “exercising” (by running back and forth from wall to wall), stretching, taking a bath, reading, watching one hour of television, and eating again. It is obvious that Ma does everything she can to nurture her son and keep him healthy.
To Jack, who has never stepped into the real world, “Room” is all he knows. Ma’s continual strength gives life to Jack. They are completely dependent on each other and have a bond so strong that not even confinement can stop them from living as much of a dignified life as they can manage. The film visually and artistically portrays the severe juxtaposition between the world of innocent bliss and the world of maturing misery.
Ma puts Jack to sleep in the wardrobe and tells him not to come out until morning. Shortly after Ma puts Jack to bed, the viewer begins to hear and see from Jack’s point of view through the paneled wardrobe door. It soon becomes clear that Ma’s kidnapper, Old Nick, rapes her multiple times a week and in turn gives Ma and Jack the bare-minimum supplies needed to “survive.” It is also evident—if it was not already earlier in the film—that Jack is Old Nick’s child. The person Ma loves the most came to her from the person she despises the most.
Old Nick is violent and unstable, yet he shows a perverted gentleness towards Ma, which makes him an interesting character. Although she is submissive to him in almost everything, she releases all her anger and wrath on him if he tries to so much as interact with Jack. Although he reacts with violence, he also is peculiarly submissive to her and does not go near Jack. While the son is equally theirs, the film shows that emotional and human love gives more value and rights to relationships than biology ever could.
The cinematographic method in this film can be considered a character itself because, depending on the point of view, the camera lens can shrink and expand the world that the viewer sees, and it keeps an emotional bond and an extended feeling of suspense and anxiety. The change from extreme close-ups to wide shots shows that Jack lives with a free soul and an expansive imagination, while Ma feels much more trapped, even though they are both equally inmates.
The first hour or so of the film gives the viewer an awkward combination of emotions: you feel utter pain seeing how they live, but you also fall in love with Jack’s cuteness and beautiful innocence. In the middle of the film, Ma decides that she must get Jack out of the shed once and for all. They come up with multiple ideas but decide that Jack will play dead and escape by having Old Nick drive him to a place far away from “Room” for burial.
The moment of escape is overwhelmingly emotional and heart-wrenching. The camera angles, Jack’s voice over the film narration, and the slow-yet-rhythmic feeling produced in this scene each invite the viewer to feel its tension.
Jack experiences the world for the first time and is naturally scared and confused by it. He follows his mother’s directions and saves himself and Ma from the menacing hands of Old Nick.
Although the viewer may feel ready for happy closure, the film seamlessly continues into what can be considered its “second act.” This second act presents a reflection on posttraumatic stress disorder and psychological shock.
While the first half of the movie moves primarily through Jack’s innocence and imagination, the second half becomes a heavy, therapeutic, yet realistic film because of Ma’s violent and unstable emotions. Just when all seems well, the viewer feels the valid, raw pain that stems from such a traumatic situation.
Jack’s innocence and childish love allow him to better adapt himself to his new, big, and beautiful world. The second half of the film stands as a psychological analysis of a family dealing with heavy tragedy. Ma’s own father cannot come to terms with what happened and is unable to acknowledge Jack as his grandson, while her mother acts as the anchor and pillar of strength that the family needs.
Perhaps what makes Room such a powerful story is one of its underlying themes: real relationships and bonds form only out of mutual human love and respect, not from biological connections. This is evident in the non-existent relationship between Old Nick and his son, Jack, as well as that between Ma’s father and Jack, his grandson.
Sophomore Jackson Herrfeldt, majoring in Film, spoke with the Rover about his reaction to Room.
“I loved it. I really appreciate that it doesn’t try to be like a true crime story,” he said. “It focuses on the relationship between mother and son. I think it has a two-act structure feel because you think there is a climax and an end, but it keeps going, which makes it that much more substantial.”
When asked what he thought about Jacob Tremblay (Jack) not being nominated for an Academy Award, Herrfeldt said, “I think he had the best performance for a child actor. A lot of people give credit to the director for his acting, and I understand that, but from the film perspective, you get the gist that the director was influencing him, but that so much of his emotion came from the actor himself, from his raw talent. I am glad he won the Critics Choice Award for best young actor at least.”
Although the second part or “act” of this film might seem a bit drawn out, it reveals the authenticity of emotions that would occur in real life. Recovering from a traumatic experience can be just as hard as enduring it.
Room is rated R for language and strong subject matter.
Crystal Avila is a junior studying Film and Latin American Studies. She suggests that you see this film ASAP. If you want to discuss the film or need another good film suggestion, contact her at cavila3@nd.edu.
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