I was supposed to be happy.

A couple of years back, I was walking my dog, Dodger, and not all that far from my house...we encountered a woman. Have you ever seen someone coming toward you, and just known, like for certain, they have something to say to you? Well, my spider-sense was certainly tingling, and as this possibly seventy-year-old woman addressed me, I knew something wasn't right.

Do you know where North York is? Is this the road to North York?

Look, I really wasn't sure what the f--k direction either of us were walking in, but I was pretty sure, either way, she wasn't headed in the right one. As we stood there, uncomfortably close, ol' Dodger (though he was Young Dodger back then) started to get antsy. Whether he wanted to keep on keeping on, or continue his familiar sniff-pee ultimate combo, I started to worry somebody was going to get upset (or bitten). Quickly, I apologized, and yanked my dog away from this old woman.

And as I walked away, instantly I knew I'd f--ked up. I should have helped her (even though, no lie, I imagined taking her into my house and she absolutely goes Reverse Underwater Spider and screams and crawls up the walls backwards). I turned to call to her, and yeah, you guessed it...

...she was totally f--king gone. 

At first glance, the soul-crushing film Room, from director Lenny Abrahamson, has little do with my pointless anecdote, outside of one very intense moment. While I'd rather not spoil it for you, for the thirty seconds I could actually function as a person during this film, it was all I could think about. That was, of course, when I wasn't holding back an endless stream of guttural sobs.

Winning an Oscar for the role, Brie Larson plays Ma, a woman confined to a very small room... somewhere. Always at an arms-length away is her son Jack, masterfully realized by the tiny force of Jacob Tremblay. Together they are utterly alone, with a tiny skylight hinting at the season, and bad TV hinting at everything else. It's just about the worst situation imaginable, but Ma and Jack are making the best of it.

That is until Old Nick shows up, a night-time visitor to Room interested in only one thing: having sex with Ma. Apparently he provides for our downtrodden pair, but just enough to keep them alive. He blames layoffs at work, but it's all too apparent that Old Nick ain't right in the head. In fact, this whole situation is beyond f--ked up, and after five years of it, Ma decides it's time to get the Hell out of there. Her plan is fairly straightforward, but entirely awful.




Without the slightest semblance of hyberbole, Ma, after five years of living like this, is going to risk absolutely everything she has. And while her life may not have been on the line, I sure as shit thought that mine was. The moment her master plan started, fully coincided with my heart stopping.

Yeah, it might only be because it's fresh in my head, but let me be clear: few films have devastated me like this one did. My wife and I hadn't seen a movie together in weeks, and where I thought this one might keep her awake and be worth talking about, we could hardly look at each other the whole time it played. In fact, I don't think we said a single word during Room's two-hour runtime, outside of that sound you make when the lump in your throat forces you to take a deep breath (or yawn) simply so you don't stop breathing. And neither of us could sleep afterward...and that's some kind of f--king record, trust me.

Who you shouldn't, ever, are the Yays and Boos. They're going to spoil the Hell out this one in a minute, so if you haven't been stabbed in the heart with a rusty knife seen Room yet, best keep it moving. And if you have seen it...um, can I get a hug? Please?

Even the happy scenes are so terribly bittersweet, you know?

Yaaaaaaaaaay!

• Top to bottom the performances are astounding in this film. If they took DiCaprio's Oscar away and gave it to the kid, I would have zero problem with it. Let him hunt me down in the snow.
• Good morning, everything!
• As I recall, no one ever sang me to sleep, but if the opportunity ever presents itself, sign me up for one of Ma's lullaby numbers. Such an angelic way to end another day in Hell.
• Thank God for that skylight. What a small thing to appreciate more than any one thing in Room (though sadly, TV was pretty clutch, too, I suppose)
• Ah, so that's why there's no lid on their toilet. Makes sense.
• Nothing but the tooth. Seems kind of obvious looking back, but I totally forgot about it. But again, Rational Thought checked out pretty early for me with this one. Staying in his place? Inconsolable Desperation.
• Outside of our mains, obviously, there are four characters I loved more than people that acutally exist.  Number 1? Officer Parker! Brilliant work, officer. Glad you got the job done, despite Tom not shutting the f--k up. Number 2? Kid with the ball. Typically kids are either too great or too miserable in movies, but this little neighbor person was totally just a regular kid. Potentially bored, likely curious and altogether kind, I was psyched to see Jack get to hang with a friend for the first time in his life. But Number 3? Well, it took me a scene or two to come around...but let's put our hands together for...
• Leo! Man, this guy was a surprising rock in the incessant turmoil Ma, Jack and everyone else was mired in. He probably could have been weirded out by everything, but instead stepped up and kept it all together. And not only was Leo the best thing ever....
• But what about Seamus? Never have I nearly totally lost my f--king shit over the presence of an entirely average dog. Like, I love dags as much as anyone, but seeing Seamus through the eyes of Jacob I felt like I was looking at an absolute miracle of nature. Saddens me/lifts me up just thinking about it (a week later, no less).
• And finally, in about as tense a scene as I have laid my already bloodshot eyes upon, Jack's escape was the cinematic equivalent of being kissed on the mouth and stabbed at the heart by someone you care deeply about. It was so good, so incredibly exciting...and so f--king awful at the same time. Which brings to me Number 4 of characters I loved too much: Dog-walking Guy. While there was a chance this person could have kept it moving, they instead stepped in and stepped up. Good on them.

I am Jack's broken heart.

Boooooooooo!

• If you're gonna have a birthday, you gotta have candles. Well, according to a super-pissed little kid, anyway.
• Tooth problems. While I still consider CastAway to take the gold when it comes to cinematic dental-related awfulness, Ma's problems are pretty bad, too. If I too was ever cut off from society, the last thing I'd ever miss would be a trip to the dentist...until I needed it, I suppose.
• Jump scares! Fine, there's only one, but it totally got me. Damn it, Ma. I get it, they're disgusting...but still. 
• Old Nick is clearly the worst person alive, no doubt, but he even one ups being an utter piece of shit by buying the worst birthday present of all time. Only a true asshole buys something that sounds like that.
• Look, Jack. Your bed totally sucks....I get it. But please, kiddo, please. Stay in it. For the love of God, stay in it. *shudder*
• Ma's exit plans. I, as much as possible, understand her level of desperation, but for f--k's sake, those plans stressed me out. Especially the one that actually worked.
• The press. They suck every way possible. Is this really how we get our information? Oh, right. It's probably worse.
• I don't really remember much about At First Sight (but yeah, I saw it theatrically) other than the fact that when Val Kilmer's character finally got to see...his life fell apart. Here? It's kind of the same thing. When Jack and Ma finally get out, you kind of think/assume things are going to be okay. Spoiler alert: they're not. Damn, inconsiderate The Rest of the World. Always ruining everything...
• So...Ma finally gets her son and herself out of the worst possibly life ever...and she does that? I was f--king furious. Sure, there's a tiny little part of me that gets it, but you know what the rest of me says to that little part: F--k you. You got a kid, f--ker.  Get it the f--k together.
• And finally, the fact that this awful, awful story isn't entirely fictitious. I don't even know what to say, really. Just...f--k. F--k everything.

So, quickly, let me finish my story. The lady disappears and I continue on walking Dodger, thinking about her the whole time. What if that was my (possibly lost?) grandmother? What would I have wanted someone who came across her to do? And as I rounded the last turn, bag of dog poop in hand, and headed back to my house, of course...there she was. 

Sitting in the road. 

Blood streaming down her face. 

With a crowd of people around her. 

And an ambulance on the way.

She was okay, ultimately, but I never forgave myself for not helping her out. Room shows us that we should always help, consequences be damned.

Unless there's a dog involved...