Helena Emmanuel
4 min readFeb 9, 2018

Movie Review: “Room In Rome” (Habitación en Roma) Might Have Been Built In A Day….

This is part four of a series in which I will review all of the lesbian movies on Netflix. Even though most if not all of them have been heavily reviewed already, there are many that I haven’t watched. Join me as we go on this journey together. It’ll be super gay at best, unintentionally homophobic at worst, and cringeworthy almost always. | Last Week’s Movie: A Perfect Ending

Week 4: Room In Rome, 2010. Dir. Julio Medem.

Netflix Synopsis: Two women meet and experience sensual and emotional fulfillment during a steamy encounter in a hotel room where they share secrets as well as sex.

Where does one start when reviewing Room In Rome? There is almost too much to unpack. Shall we start with the reliance on the trope of homosexual experimentation? Using adultery as a plot device? The child molestation backstory? The miscarriage one? Oh, the embarrassment of riches is overwhelming.

Let’s start with the fact that Room In Rome, the story of two women who meet and fall in love — or at least lust, was written and directed by a straight man. Julio Medem clearly built this movie on what is likely nothing more than fantasy and conjecture. I mean, there is a pillow fight! And while one of the actors does identify as a part of the LGBT community, that hardly takes the sting out of the heteronormative male gaze under which these characters’ experience exist.

Alba (Elena Anaya) and Natasha (Natasha Yarovenko) meet at a bar on their last night in Rome. Natasha is flying back to Moscow the next day; Alba is leaving for Spain. Alba seduces Natasha to come up to her hotel room with pick up lines so aggressive and dull it’s astounding that they work. Alba grabs Natasha’s hand, and like clockwork, Natasha discloses that she’s “never gone up to a woman’s room before”. Color me shocked.

It’s difficult to critique the writing of this movie. Not because it is that good, but because it is almost exclusively in English, a language that neither of the two protagonists nor the screenwriter speak natively. In that respect, it makes sense that the dialogue feels awkward and stunted — of course the word choice and rhythm of a secondary or tertiary language will not be the same as those of a mother tongue; however, despite these very legitimate reasons, the clunkiness of the writing firmly takes a native English speaker out of the story.

Although, it’s not that hard to be taken out of the story because there isn’t much story present in Room In Rome. The greatest personal obstacle that the two women must overcome is learning to put their robes on when they open the hotel room door. (It happens, like, four times. Put a robe on!) There is more backstory than actual plot, but in Alba and Natasha’s attempts to remain coy, it’s unclear if that backstory is actually true: Natasha’s name is maybe Dasha, and she is maybe an actor and maybe a tennis player, and she maybe was a history major and maybe lives on an island; Alba is maybe not her real name, and she and/or her mother were maybe sold to a Saudi prince, and she maybe had a miscarriage and maybe has a dead stepson. The only definite personal information about either character is that they are both cheating on long term serious partners. How fun.

Rome attempts to use its setting as a character. With frequent inserts of the paintings that adorn the walls of the hotel room and mentions of the history that the ancient city holds, Medem tries hard to draw parallels between the inherent passion of Rome and the mutual infatuation of the two women. Natasha exclaims, “We’re surrounded by history! Can you feel it?” Not really, because the camera never looks further than immediately outside the hotel room window. And any wonder they have about Rome is quickly absorbed by a five minute sequence in which the two look up each other’s houses on Google Maps. Which they do naked. Consequently, we’re left to take the women’s word on how rich Rome is. And their word has not been very good.

In short, Room In Rome does not accomplish any of what it set out to do. It does not tell a realistic story of two women falling in love. Its writing is nonsense both in terms of the LGBT tropes it uses and the straight male gaze it is born from. What is supposed to be an intimate story is actually generic and impersonal, which is impressive given that it features so much physical intimacy. It ultimately betrays its own title by utterly failing to capture the romance and magic that a room in the heart of Rome should elicit. Room In Rome asks you believe that the experience Alba and Natasha share is idyllic, but ultimately all it feels like is a fever dream.

FINAL TALLY
Gays Buried: None
Queer Director: No
Queer Writer: No
Queer Actor(s): Yes

Watch Room In Rome
Next week’s movie: Princess Cyd

Helena Emmanuel

TV production freelancer in New York. Sometimes I write.