Watch This offers movie recommendations inspired by new releases, premieres, current events, or occasionally just our own inscrutable whims. This week: Antlers, a horror movie adapted from a story by Nick Antosca, is not hitting theaters. In its absence, we’re looking back on other movies based on short stories.
In The Bedroom (2001)
There are, notoriously, two published versions of Raymond Carver’s short story “The Bath”: the one Gordon Lish edited—or rewrote, depending on who you ask—and Carver’s original. “A Small, Good Thing” restored the significant text Lish cut and was published in Ploughshares in 1983, two years after it appeared in the collection What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. Both stories follow a couple whose young son is hit by a car and goes into a coma. In theory, Lish’s version is more successful. It’s stark and unsentimental, and abides by the tacit rule that guides the writing of contemporary short stories: Include only as much as is needed, nothing more. And yet, one could make a case for Carver’s less efficient iteration, not because of the additional information it conveys, but because by merely spending more time with the central couple, the reader more strongly feels their fear.
There’s a similar accumulation at work in Todd Field’s In The Bedroom, adapted from a story by Carver contemporary Andre Dubus, another heavyweight of mid- to late-century short fiction. Dubus’ story also concerns a grieving couple, here an older husband and wife whose college-age son is killed by his girlfriend’s soon-to-be ex-husband. The film adaptation is long, and somewhat slow. It’s hard to tell at first what kind of movie it is. The first thing we see is Frank (Nick Stahl) and his girlfriend, Natalie (Marisa Tomei), laughing and running through a sunny field. It’s not until nearly 40 minutes in that Frank is killed—a development Dubus reveals in his very first sentence. Working in a medium that relies on compression, Dubus gets right to it, putting the focus on Matt and what he might do in response to his son’s murder. In the story, Frank is an impetus; in the film, he is first a living, breathing person.
By shifting the perspective to each main character and unfolding the film chronologically, Field is able to first establish Frank’s relationships with others, then show their devastated lives without him. It’s clear Frank cares not only for Natalie but also her two young sons. In The Bedroom is set in a small Maine town, and there’s a cookout, a lobstering trip, Red Sox on the radio. While Frank’s mother, Ruth (Sissy Spacek), is dubious of her son’s relationship with the older woman, the viewer understands their connection goes far deeper than just a “summer thing,” as Frank reassures her, because we’ve seen the two of them together. They’re in love.
The film’s intentional pace continues after Frank’s death. Ruth and Matt (Tom Wilkinson) move listlessly through their days: going to the store, watching late-night television, mowing the lawn. None of these scenes create clear tension or provide new information, but through repetition and the accumulation of time, we understand the weight of the couple’s loss.
Dubus named his story “Killings.” A lot of the writer’s titles are like this: “The Pretty Girl,” “Adultery,” “Townies.” He’d give you the subject upfront, but never anything thematic. With “In The Bedroom,” Field brings the story’s subtext to the surface. In an early scene, when Matt and Frank take one of Natalie’s boys fishing, Matt pulls up a writhing lobster that’s lost a claw. He explains that if two lobsters are left “in the bedroom” of the trap long enough, they’ll turn on each other. The metaphor will not fully reveal itself until much later.
As shocking as it is when Strout (William Mapother) shoots Frank, a different, arguably greater violence arrives when Natalie visits Ruth in the music hall where the latter has finished directing choir practice. A contrite and stricken Natalie tells Ruth how sorry she is about everything, and in the middle of her whispered plea, Ruth slaps her. In the next scene, Ruth sees Strout, out on bail, in a grocery store, and her face looks like a helpless child’s. She hits the woman who loved her son and freezes when she sees his killer. Ruth’s angry grief is the kind that swallows up everything around her, including the possibility that her husband might be hurting as much as she is. Tomei, Spacek, and Wilkinson give incredible performances (all were nominated for Oscars), but Spacek’s role is the most challenging. The actor finds nuance within Ruth’s pain and cruelty, and keeps the character from becoming a villain, as with someone like Mary Tyler Moore’s grieving mother in Ordinary People.
What Dubus’ story gestures toward, In The Bedroom makes plain: The tragedy is as much what follows a loss as the loss itself. And adaptations like Field’s show you don’t need more action to make a feature-length film from a short story; you need merely take great care in everything offered. In the late-night aftermath of the climax’s violent reckoning, Matt returns to find Ruth awake, smoking in the gray, early-morning light. We’ve seen their bed before, at night, when the couple was talking about their son, who was at that point still alive, but it’s only now in this wider shot that we see just how small it is.
Availability: In The Bedroom is currently available for digital rental and purchase and to stream on YouTube, iTunes, Google Play, Vudu, Amazon Prime, and HBO Now.
31 Comments
Excellent movie. I have turned a ton of people on to this one over the years. That final scene with Frank is absolutely brutal.
Error in the article: The story “Killings” was by Andre Dubus. “Townie” was by his son, Andre Dubus III.
Andre Dubus III did write a memoir named Townie, but first his father wrote a short story called “Townies.”
D’oh. That’s what I get for thinking I spotted something (and of course, mixing up the two isn’t difficult) and not spotting that “s.” My bad!
I only knew Dubus’ name because of his writings that ended up as screenplays. So for years, because of the films and his name, I assumed he was some old ass French guy who wrote this stuff a million years ago and it was only now coming to light with American filmmakers. But then I read “Townies” by his son, and I was, like, “Ohhhhhh, this guy is American! Huh. “Shows how easy one is prejudiced by a name.
And what about Andre Dubus II? He must have really let the family down, not writing any sort of prose called ‘Townies.’
He wrote a poem called “Towners”…
This is one of my favorite movies. The way it conveys the numbing pain of losing a child is incredible. All the things you do to try not to think about it, but it’s an ache that never goes away.The thing that really hit me was Matt trying to tell Ruth about the picture he saw of Natalie and Strout – how they looked so happy. He can’t explain it, but I think he realizes that his son, not Strout, might have been the third lobster in the bedroom. I think Ruth might find some relief in the end, but I don’t think Matt will.
This belongs on my list of movies I know are very good but have no intention of watching. See also: The Act of Killing, Requiem for a Dream.
Same. As a parent I just don’t feel the need to put myself through this.
I first watched it before I became a parent. It resonates more with me now. The Tree of Life was similar in that respect.
I’m sure it’s a good movie, but can’t imagine I’d actually enjoy the experience of watching it.
As a parent who buried her son, there’s not enough money in the world for me to see this. I’m morbidly fascinated to see other ppl’s take on that loss, here in the comments.
I’m so, so sorry. I can’t imagine.
I know what you mean. Because I thought he could see how he thought the actions that came later would destroy another family as much as his own was destroyed. Ruth was just in full vengeance mode and couldn’t see past this.But, on another level, I also thought it was making a point about the difference between men and women and their children. He was grieving and devastated but could see a way out to move on. Ruth could only see what was stolen from her.
It’s been 14 years since Todd Fields last directed a film. Richard Stanley had a longer streak, but he’d basically retired from directing.
I’m still holding out hope for his dramatization of The Battered Bastards of Baseball.
I love this movie. What happened to Todd Field (who, I admit, I always think of as Billy Campbell’s annoying work partner on Once and Again)? Two great movies adapted from interesting stories/books and then… Nothing. I see that a few years back he was working on a 20 hour adaptation of Franzen’s novel Purity, for Showtime with playwright David Hare (!) But Wiki goes on to say: “However, in a February 2018 interview with The Times London, Hare said that, given the budget for Field’s adaptation (170 million), he doubted it would ever be made, but added ‘It was one of the richest and most interesting six weeks of my life, sitting in a room with Todd Field, Jonathan Franzen and Daniel Craig bashing out the story. They’re extremely interesting people.’”
This was one of the first movies I saw in theaters because of the Oscar buzz. I hated it, in the theater, in part because I was too young and it was too slow. The ending surprised the hell out of me, though, and I can imagine I’d like it more, now.
Obligatory Alternate Picks For This Week’s Theme Post: Memento: Honestly, that’s the only one I can remember at the moment, but it is a good.
All of the performances are good in this movie but Wilkinson is extraordinary at conveying how much is going on underneath the surface.
that’s one of his greatest gifts as an actor. he’s a master of subterfuge and subtlety.
Sissy Spacek is an underrated contender for greatest American film actress and this might be her most devastating, and maybe even best, performance
yeah, i’d tie this with Carrie maybe as her best role. Coal Miner’s Daughter is great, but it’s a lot simpler a role and simpler a movie.
She was the only thing about The Help that didn’t make me want to slap my forehead. A mother who knows exactly what a bitch her daughter is.
I’d put this on the list of truly great American films. High praise, perhaps, but it is so superbly written, acted, directed; it gets the little things right (the Sox on the radio in every scene, etc.); little flourishes are so surprising and heartfelt, but earned (the hand on the pillow); and it deals with grief and loss in ways I’ve not seen elsewhere on film. I really can’t recommend this highly enough, amazing, amazing film.
also Nick Stahl man. I miss that dude. Hope he’s kicked his habit for good, but you never know. I thought he was a fantastic actor, then he just fell of the earth and onto the same Skid Row that eventually claimed Brad Renfro as well.
I remember renting this from the Movie Gallery I managed when it came out, and watching it late at night with my idiot small-town friends as they got high and ignored it and mocked it and insisted we watch something like The Fast & The Furious instead. 🙁
Also I wish Todd Field would direct more movies.
I remember he was kind of buzzy at the time because of his part in “Eyes Wide Shut”.
It’s a shame that by doing a short review of the movie, you end spoiling it for any first time viewers. This is the kind of movie where it’s best to go in blind. You really don’t know what kind of movie it is. It appears to be a film about nothing, and then just as you’re about to turn it off and watch something more exciting, someone gets shot and you’re like, “Wtf….?”It’s really a fantastic film and one that most people have never heard of. It actually reminds me a little of Korean films like Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Parasite, or even The Handmaiden. Everything’s pretty normal, until it’s not.