Scenes of the beautiful mundane of youth
Very rarely do you get offered an opportunity to act like a kid again. When watching Room2Dream, you are all but encouraged to act like one – and it’s fitting, considering the subject matter.
The film is hosted in a large parachute-style dome, and you are instructed to lie back on the floor for the best view. We are told before the film starts that it is a collection of young people’s meditations of the concept of ‘home’. Filmed just after the last of many lockdowns, we are told that special 360-degree cameras were dispatched to various schools and youth centres across the world in order to capture the poetry, songs, essays, and scenes of everyday life that the children had come up with.
It is a truly immersive experience – the technology of the 360-degree cameras creates an astonishing effect. As people walk past the camera in the film, I felt as if they were about to brush past me, too. We are immediately transported into the world of the film. While on a surface level, most of the film seems dedicated to capturing scenes of the beautiful mundane of youth, a deeper meaning lies just under the surface. When flitting between two hospices – one in England, one in South Africa – there is a marked lack of any medical or health-related imagery. We, as the audience, must sit in the truth of what is being said instead of being distracted by any footage related to what is being said. It feels that the children of the film are asking not to be patronised to – the content of their poems, songs, and words, makes it clear that they understand better than anyone the world they live in.
Indeed, the film does a very good job of never preaching to its audience. Images of a refugee camp in Rwanda, a youth group in Syria, and a family in Gaza are presented without comment. While we, as the audience, know the deeper meaning behind filming in these locations, the film instead chooses to focus on the joy that is found by the children living there.
While the film is certainly a great use of cinematography, and its content is touching, it lacks a clear sense of conclusion. Instead, we jump from concept to concept, and the scrolling of credits comes as somewhat of a surprise as we never quite see a conclusion. Additionally, while a majority of the film is in English, there are certain segments in which other languages are spoken, and subtitles are not provided. This left me wanting, as I wondered what words I had missed.
At face value, the film is a poignant collection of young people’s thoughts and feelings, but the lack of structure diminishes the true power the words could have. While I will remember the most heartfelt words I heard from the children in the film, it’s likely I will not remember the film itself.