Red Rooms Review: A Cold, Unsettling Thriller That Questions Our True Crime Obsession

Why are we so fascinated by tragedy?

Synopsis

The high-profile case of serial killer Ludovic Chevalier has just gone to trial, and Kelly-Anne is obsessed. When reality blurs with her morbid fantasies, she goes down a dark path to seek the final piece of the puzzle: the missing video of a murder.

Red Rooms Is Worth Watching - Just Not Comfortably.

Good Points

• Cold, precise direction

• Strong performances

• Atmosphere and sterile visual style

• Smart, unsettling commentary on true crime obsession

• Psychological depth

Bad Points

• Slow-burn pacing can test patience

• Courtroom scenes occasionally overstay their welcome

The film feels cold and calculated in the best possible way.

Red Rooms is a film where almost straight away it all feels sterile. with an atmosphere that’s emotionally distant and deliberately isolating, which of course matches Kelly-Anne’s internal world perfectly, where you’re not guided toward comfort, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

At first I found something darkly funny about Kelly-Anne’s interactions with her AI home system, before realising that actually it is quite sad, as her preference for a machine over human connection drives home just how isolated and obsessed she’s become.

Detached obsession has rarely looked this precise.

Red Rooms also refuses to hold your hand, especially around the courtroom proceedings and media circus around Chevalier’s case, as it forces you to confront the uncomfortable question - why are we so fascinated by tragedy?

It all acts like a psychological mirror, reflecting that curiosity right back at the audience, and it’s deeply unnerving, especially helped by the performances, where Juliette Gariépy is exceptional as Kelly-Anne, as she captures a chilling detachment that is quite unsettling to watch, while Maxwell McCabe-Lokos has limited screen time as Chevalier, but his presence is seen and heard when he does appear.

Laurie Babin’s Clémentine provides contrast to Kelly-Anne - her idealism about Chevalier’s innocence feels more recognizably human, even when it’s misguided.

The emptiness is deliberate.

Vincent Biron’s cinematography also deserves big praise, as it captures the cold stillness of Canadian mornings beautifully, and the courthouse scenes are intentionally plain, which only helps to heighten the impact of the darker material.

Red Rooms is also a slow burn, so if you don’t have much patience, maybe avoid it, but it’s all deliberate, so if you’re not ready to sit with discomfort, it may test you.

Psychologically is where Red Rooms really excels though.

Kelly-Anne is obsessed with the acts, while Clémentine is obsessed with the man, and both fixations are morally questionable - but the film never tells you which is worse - it simply lets the question linger in the air, and that lingering discomfort is the point.

How complicit are we?

The film has an obvious commentary on technology, which feels modern and real, about how digital spaces can isolate people like Kelly-Anne while amplifying tragedy for public consumption.

It’s all incredibly plausible, which makes it worse, and there’s a self-awareness here that’s hard to ignore, as you can easily imagine Kelly-Anne and Clémentine sitting at home watching true crime documentaries, judging the subjects, just like we do.

The film quietly implicates the audience in that same behavior, and does so in a very clever way, and confronts those of us watching with their own fascination, where it leaves you with that faint itch in your mind - fascination mixed with guilt.

Final Verdict

Red Rooms is smart, unsettling, and emotionally distant by design, and it’s a pure confrontation.

It leaves you questioning why we consume true crime the way we do, and whether that curiosity makes us also complicit.

Uncomfortable. Necessary. Worth watching.