Movies usually age out of their shock value. What felt scandalous in 1970 feels like a sitcom today. But the In the Room movie is different. It’s an erotic drama that feels trapped in a specific, humid, and somewhat desperate pocket of time. Directed by Singapore’s cinematic heavyweight Eric Khoo, this isn't just a film about sex; it’s a film about a single hotel room—Room 27—and the ghosts, literal and figurative, that inhabit it over several decades.
It's weird. It’s beautiful. Sometimes, honestly, it’s just plain uncomfortable.
If you’re looking for a standard Hollywood romance, you’re in the wrong place. This is an anthology. It spans from the 1940s to the present day, tracking the changing social landscape of Singapore through the lens of what people do when the "Do Not Disturb" sign is hanging on the door. Because of its explicit nature, it famously ran into a brick wall with the Infocomm Media Development Authority (IMDA) in Singapore, leading to a long-delayed release and a fair bit of controversy regarding its "International Version" versus the censored ones.
The Architecture of Desire in Room 27
The premise is simple: the room stays the same, but the occupants change. We see a Japanese occupation-era tryst, a 1970s musical interlude, and a modern-day encounter involving a social media star. By keeping the camera inside those four walls, Khoo forces us to look at how humans use sex to communicate things they can't say out loud.
Is it high art? Or is it just "prestige porn"?
Critics have been split on that since it premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival back in 2015. But to dismiss the In the Room movie as mere titillation misses the point of Khoo’s career. This is the man who gave us Mee Pok Man and 12 Storeys. He’s obsessed with the marginalized. In this film, the marginalized are those seeking connection in a city-state that often prioritizes efficiency and sterility over raw, messy human emotion.
The cast is a strange, eclectic mix. You’ve got Koh Boon Pin, Josie Ho, and even the South Korean actor Choi Woo-shik before he became a global household name through Parasite. Seeing a young Choi Woo-shik in a segment titled "The First Time" is a trip. He plays a nervous student visiting Singapore with his friend, and their segment captures that specific, agonizing awkwardness of youth. It's a far cry from his role in Train to Busan, yet you can see that same vulnerability he brings to all his characters.
Why the Censorship Battle Actually Mattered
You can't talk about this film without talking about the censors. In Singapore, the film was initially refused classification. That’s basically a death sentence for a local production. The IMDA took issue with the frequency and detail of the sexual scenes, which Khoo argued were essential to the narrative of "humanity through the ages."
Eventually, a version was released, but the saga highlighted a massive tension in Asian cinema. How do you tell a story about the most private human acts in a culture that values public modesty?
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Khoo didn't blink.
He stuck to his guns, and eventually, the In the Room movie became a sort of cult touchstone for regional cinephiles. It serves as a reminder that the history of a place isn't just written in textbooks or by politicians. It’s written in the sweat on hotel sheets and the whispered conversations between strangers who will never see each other again.
Breaking Down the Segments: The Good, The Bad, and The Sweaty
The film is divided into six distinct chapters. Not all of them land perfectly. Some feel like fleeting sketches, while others carry the weight of a full-length feature.
- 1940s: A British officer and his lover. It’s heavy with the dread of the impending war. The room feels like a bunker.
- 1950s: A striptease artist and her admirer. This segment is surprisingly tender, focusing on the performance of desire versus the reality of it.
- 1980s: This is where things get truly "Khoo-esque." It involves a Thai trans woman and a sense of profound loneliness that defines that era's rapid urbanisation.
- Modern Day: This is perhaps the most cynical segment. It deals with the transactional nature of sex in the digital age.
The transition between these eras is handled through clever production design. The wallpaper fades, the furniture changes, and the lighting shifts from warm, nostalgic sepias to harsh, digital blues. But the bed remains the center of the universe. It’s the stage where every drama unfolds.
The Ghost in the Room
There is a supernatural element that most people forget when they first hear about the In the Room movie. It’s not just a drama; it’s a ghost story. One character, a ghost of a former guest, lingers in the background of several segments. It’s a bit of a metaphor—maybe a bit too "on the nose" for some—for how our past actions leave a residue in the places we inhabit.
Think about the last time you stayed in a hotel. You don't know who slept there the night before. You don't know if they were celebrating a wedding or mourning a death. Khoo taps into that universal "hotel room" feeling—that strange anonymity that allows you to be someone else for a night.
Technical Merits: Does it Actually Look Good?
Visually, the film is lush. Christopher Doyle, the legendary cinematographer known for his work with Wong Kar-wai, didn't shoot this, but you can feel his influence. The colors are saturated. The camera lingers on skin and fabric in a way that feels tactile.
The sound design is equally important. In a movie with relatively little dialogue, the creak of a floorboard or the distant sound of Singaporean traffic helps establish the passage of time. You aren't just watching a movie; you're eavesdropping. It’s voyeuristic. It’s supposed to be.
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Misconceptions and What Most People Get Wrong
The biggest mistake people make is assuming this is an "erotic thriller." It’s not. There are no murders, no high-stakes heists, and no femme fatales trying to steal a suitcase of cash. If you go in expecting Basic Instinct, you’re going to be bored out of your mind.
The In the Room movie is a meditation.
It’s slow. It’s contemplative. It’s more interested in the silence after sex than the act itself. Some viewers find the pacing frustrating. Honestly? It kind of is. But that’s intentional. It mirrors the lethargy of a humid afternoon in a room with the air conditioning turned up too high.
Another misconception is that the film is "anti-Singapore." While it certainly pokes at the country’s conservative streaks, it’s actually a love letter to the city’s complex, multi-cultural history. You hear Mandarin, English, Malay, and Japanese. It’s a snapshot of a crossroads.
Actionable Insights for the Curious Viewer
If you’re planning to track down this film, there are a few things you should know to get the most out of the experience.
1. Find the Uncut Version
If you watch the heavily censored broadcast versions, the movie literally won't make sense. The rhythm of the scenes is built around the physical intimacy. When you chop that out, you're left with people just staring at walls for ninety minutes. Look for the "International Version."
2. Watch it as a Time Capsule
Don’t look at it as one continuous story. Look at the background details. Notice how the fashion changes. Notice how the way people speak to each other evolves. It’s a brilliant study in social history.
3. Contextualize Eric Khoo
If you haven't seen his other work, this might feel like an outlier. It’s not. Watch 12 Storeys first. It will give you a better understanding of his fascination with urban isolation.
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4. Pay Attention to the Soundtrack
The music in the In the Room movie is carefully curated to evoke the specific nostalgia of each decade. The 1970s segment, in particular, uses music to tell a story that the characters can’t quite put into words.
Final Thoughts on Room 27
Is the In the Room movie a masterpiece? Probably not. It’s a bit uneven, and some segments are definitely stronger than others. But it is an important film. It pushed the boundaries of what Singaporean cinema could be. It challenged the authorities and won a small victory for artistic expression.
Most importantly, it captures something real.
We all spend our lives moving through spaces that others have occupied. We leave bits of ourselves behind in offices, apartments, and hotel rooms. Eric Khoo just had the guts to put a camera in the corner and show us what that looks like when the lights go down.
If you want to understand the film, you have to be willing to sit with the discomfort. You have to be okay with the fact that not every story has a happy ending, and not every encounter leads to a deep connection. Sometimes, a room is just a room. And sometimes, it’s the only place where you can truly be yourself.
To truly appreciate the film's place in cinema, compare it to other anthology films like Paris, je t'aime or New York Stories. While those focus on the city as a character, Khoo focuses on the room as a witness. It’s a smaller, more intimate, and ultimately more haunting perspective.
Next Steps for the Viewer:
- Research the filmography of Eric Khoo to understand his recurring themes of loneliness and the "invisible" people of Singapore.
- Compare the different rating classifications the film received in the UK, Singapore, and Australia to see how different cultures interpret erotic content.
- Look for the specific "First Time" segment featuring Choi Woo-shik to see an early glimpse of the actor's range before his Hollywood breakout.