It is a tiny, filthy garden shed. It is a universe. Honestly, if you decided to watch Room 2015 recently, you probably haven't slept right since the credits rolled. There is something about that movie—directed by Lenny Abrahamson and based on Emma Donoghue’s devastatingly good novel—that just sticks to your ribs. It isn't just a "kidnap thriller." Calling it that feels like a massive insult to the emotional heavy lifting Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay do on screen.
Most people go into this movie expecting a "true crime" vibe. They want the grit. They want the procedural drama of an escape. But what they actually get is a visceral, suffocating look at what happens to the human brain when its entire reality is contained within four walls and a single skylight.
The claustrophobia of the first hour
The first half of the film is a masterclass in making the audience feel trapped. Ma (Brie Larson) has been held captive for seven years. Her son, Jack, played by a then nine-year-old Jacob Tremblay, has never seen the outside. For Jack, "Room" isn't a prison. It's the world. Plants, the stove, the wardrobe—they are all characters in his life.
It's weirdly beautiful and horrifying at the same time.
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Abrahamson shot these scenes in a literal 11-by-11-foot set. He didn't use "cheater" walls that move out of the way for the camera. This matters. You can feel the lack of air. When you watch Room 2015, you notice the camera is often right in their faces, or tucked into a corner, mimicking the perspective of a child who thinks the TV is magic and the "Old Nick" character is just some guy who brings supplies from space.
Larson’s performance here is what won her the Oscar, and it wasn’t because she cried a lot. It was the exhaustion. The way she tries to maintain a "normal" childhood for Jack while she’s clearly vibrating with trauma. She’s the architect of his reality.
Why the escape isn't the end
Usually, in Hollywood, once the victim escapes the "bad guy," the movie ends. Roll credits. Everyone is safe.
Room says "hold my beer."
The escape happens surprisingly early. The rug-pull is that the second half of the movie is actually the harder part to watch. Seeing Jack experience "outside" for the first time—the sheer volume of the world, the brightness, the people—is overwhelming. It’s a sensory overload that makes you realize why some people actually prefer their cages.
The psychology of the "Outside"
When Ma and Jack finally get out, the movie shifts from a thriller to a psychological study on the limits of resilience. Ma returns to her childhood home, but her parents (played by Joan Allen and William H. Macy) have moved on. They’ve divorced. The room she left at seventeen is now a museum to a girl who doesn't exist anymore.
A lot of viewers find the grandfather’s reaction—or lack thereof—the most painful part. He can’t even look at Jack. To him, Jack is a living, breathing reminder of his daughter’s suffering. It's a brutal, honest depiction of how trauma doesn't just affect the victim; it shatters the whole family tree.
Jack, ironically, adjusts better than his mother. Kids are resilient. He views the "outside" as just another Room, just a bigger one. Ma, however, has to reconcile the fact that seven years of her life were stolen. She has to deal with the media. There’s that one scene—you know the one—the interview where the reporter asks her if she ever thought about asking Old Nick to take Jack to a hospital or leave him at a church so he could have a life.
It’s a disgusting question. But it’s the kind of thing people actually think.
The filming of the rug scene
If you’re looking for a specific reason to watch Room 2015 again, pay attention to the cinematography during the escape. Danny Cohen, the Director of Photography, used different lenses for the "Room" scenes versus the "Outside" scenes. Inside, everything is sharp, textured, and close. Outside, the world is often blurry, handheld, and chaotic.
The scene where Jack is rolled up in the rug? It was filmed in the freezing cold of Toronto. Jacob Tremblay had to act like he was dead while being bounced around in the back of a truck. The moment he sees the sky for the first time—that shot of the clouds—was actually one of the last things they filmed. That look of awe on his face? That’s 100% genuine.
Real-world parallels and the truth behind the story
Emma Donoghue has stated that while the book wasn't a direct retelling of any one case, she was heavily influenced by the Elisabeth Fritzl case in Austria.
It’s a dark rabbit hole to go down.
Fritzl was held captive for 24 years by her father. She had seven children in the cellar. When you know that, the movie feels less like a fictional drama and more like a tribute to the survivors of such unimaginable cruelty. The film avoids being "trauma porn," though. It doesn't show the sexual violence. It doesn't need to. The shadows and the sounds do all the work.
How to actually process this movie
If you're going to watch Room 2015, don't do it on a Friday night when you're already feeling down. It's a heavy lift. But it's also a movie about the bond between a parent and a child.
Jack is the hero. His perspective is what saves the film from being too depressing to handle. He sees the magic in everything. A leaf. A dog. The way the wind feels. It forces the audience to look at their own lives through that same lens. We take the "outside" for granted every single day.
Practical things to look for on a rewatch:
- The Hair: Notice how Ma's hair changes. It’s lank and greasy in the shed, but as she recovers, it becomes a symbol of her reclaiming her identity.
- The Teeth: There’s a plot point about a rotting tooth. It’s a small detail that highlights the physical toll of their captivity—no sunlight, no Vitamin D, no dental care.
- The Silence: The movie uses silence better than almost any other film of the 2010s. The moments where nothing is being said are often the loudest.
Moving forward after the credits
Once you finish, you might feel a bit hollow. That’s normal.
The best way to "use" this movie is to look at your own environment. We all have our own versions of "Room"—mental barriers, toxic situations, or just routines that keep us small. Jack’s transition to the world isn't easy, but he does it by taking small steps. "Bye, Room," he says at the end.
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If you want to dive deeper into the themes of the film, read the book by Emma Donoghue. It’s written entirely from Jack’s five-year-old perspective, which makes the horror of the situation even more poignant because he doesn't have the vocabulary to understand it.
After that, maybe watch something light. A cartoon. A comedy. You've earned it.
Actionable Insights for Cinephiles
- Study the lighting: Observe how the light changes from the yellow, artificial glow of the shed to the cold, blueish "real world" light of the hospital.
- Compare the perspectives: Read the first chapter of the novel to see how Abrahamson translated Jack’s internal monologue into visual cues.
- Research the production: Look into how Brie Larson isolated herself for a month and went on a strict diet to understand the physical toll of her character's experience.