4 out of 5

Directed by: Caya Casas

While I’ll be very mum on most details here, there are conceptual spoilers, in the sense that by mentioning some aspects of the film, it precludes… other things. At the same time, given the subject matter of the movie, some might enjoy that “spoiler” – movies like The Coffee Table can go in one of a few directions, with some more obvious ones being what most viewers would generally consider ‘cheap’ in the common parlance; and that’s not how this flick plays out.

Onward…!

Writer / director Caya Casas – this is me paraphrasing from a Variety interview mentioned on wikipedia – had wanted to create a horror movie about the uncaring nature of the everyday: the horrors that happen without the morality lessons and conclusions of a written-for-the-screen event. The output of that desire, The Coffee Table, achieves that goal to a punishing extent, but maybe also to – structurally – a detrimental one: as that means we can’t very well get a “satisfying” ending. To Casas’ great credit, this more than a “life sucks and then you die” exercise, though, as he populates the movie’s 90 minutes with pokes and prods at dark comedy, and sharp character exploration, and social commentary, without soiling that ultimate goal. Still, the ending is the movie’s weakest part; the part that makes you question if the journey was “worth it.”

It is. As Casas unravels some tightly coiled springs moving into the film’s final section, kind of letting us know the general direction we’re taking, I realized this was a movie that A. I could watch again, and B. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend. It’s not a “watch anytime” event, but the filmmaking is very precise for the majority such that it’s incredibly refreshing: a reminder that second-screenism isn’t a requirement, nor does every horror movie have to have some heavy-footed second meaning plastered behind a bogeyman. As for the recommendation, I might offer caveats along the lines of my spoilers, but assuming I sense a viewer’s sensitivities can deal with the subject matter, it’s a very effective viewing.

New parents María (Estefanía de los Santos) and Jesús (David Pareja) are introduced to us shopping for the titular item. Jesús maintains that María has had control of everything lately – naming their baby Cayetano, the design of their new home, and so on – that she owes him this one decision: the choice of coffee table. It’s… a choice: two faux-gold nude figures arched backwards, holding up a glass surface. The salesman (Eduardo Antuña), clearly huffing some high quality snake oil, promises the couple that the table is guaranteed to bring the two happiness, and the glass is unbreakable – two Chekov’s Guns for us to raise our brows at.

The table is delivered; Jesús begins the setup while María steps out to pick up food, leaving the child in her hubby’s charge. They’ve bickered over the table; they’ve bickered over buying wine for a forthcoming visit from Jesús’ brother; and she departs with it being a little heated between the two.

And while she’s away, something horrible happens.

Through side conversations, shots of photographs, or brief cutaways to settings and surroundings, Casas tells us so much about Jesús and María, before and after child, and what might have brought them together. There is love there – deep love – that has been tested as of late, and this later gets compared to Jesús’ brother (Josep Maria Riera) and his recent, young girlfriend (Claudia Riera). The cinematography (Alberto Morago Muñoz) and lighting are sharp without being gregarious; Cayas’ edits smoothly and confidently, though the film occasionally tips into overly arty moments that distract more than anything. The decision to use Bambikina for the score was inspired – the rock beats would seem like an odd pairing but work really well to keep things motivated and unsettled; checking out their music outside of this, I would not have thought to pair them to the movie.

There are story decisions along the way that adjust the direction of the story, but with each direction – up until the aforementioned ending section – Casas manages the material such that it doesn’t tip erratically or unbelievably into genre, which really wrenches up the tension more, because you can’t quite tell what the “way out” will be.

As a last note, while there is blood in this movie, it’s the concept that’s probably horrific to most – it plays into the TCM category of doing so much with tone and setting versus actually showing the gory stuff.