The Coffee Table, 2022.
Directed by Caye Casas.
Starring David Pareja, Estefanía de los Santos, Josep Maria Riera, Claudia Riera, and Itziar Castro.
SYNOPSIS:
A decision to buy a new coffee table heralds the beginning of a very bad day for a married Spanish couple with a new baby.
If ever there was a movie that demonstrated the butterfly effect theory, then Spanish filmmaker Caye Casas’ The Coffee Table is surely it. Demonstrating how one small decision can instigate a much bigger, more significant event later on, new parents Jesús (David Pareja) and Maria (Estefanía de los Santos) go to a store to buy a new coffee table for their flat. The hot-tempered Maria does not like her husband’s choice – a gaudy piece featuring two gold-painted naked ladies holding up the main piece of glass – but the salesman is persuasive and Jesús likes it, as well as liking the fact he is actually allowed to make this one decision, seeing as Maria got to choose the rest of the decor for the flat.
All is well until Maria goes out to do some shopping in preparation for a visit from Jesús’ brother Carlos (Josep Maria Riera) and his new girlfriend Cristina (Claudia Riera), leaving Jesús to look after their baby son whilst waiting for the salesman to deliver the missing screw for the table – what could possibly go wrong?
Well, quite a bit actually, but that is all you are going to get here as anything more would be a spoiler. The Coffee Table is a movie that reveals its shocks early on so you spend the rest of the movie in a state of suspense along with Jesús, who clearly wishes that he had let Maria get her way, and that is one of the main themes bubbling away under the surface of the movie; not in a sexist or misogynistic way, but the idea of new parents being overly cautious or not fully being in control of a given situation, forcing their own ideas on each other and not letting the other person speak, is woven very carefully into the horrific narrative to make you question what more is going on other than what we are witnessing on the screen.
The two main leads are wonderful in their roles, with David Pareja perfectly capturing the inadequacy that new fathers can feel when left to their own devices with a baby in tow, a feeling of immaturity that is hammered home when Carlos comes to visit and discovers that his brother has kept his old Star Wars and He-Man toys to decorate the baby’s room with. It helps that Maria is such a strong character, and Estefanía de los Santos gives it her all as the fiery wife who just would like her husband to step up and take responsibility for once (as long as it is how she wants him to do it). Initially a bit unlikeable, Maria ultimately gains our sympathies – as do all the characters – after a tense build-up that, if this were a soap opera or an episode of Inside No. 9, would have you shouting at the screen for Jesús to do the right thing.
And the soap opera comparison is an apt one because The Coffee Table, whilst maintaining its tension fairly consistently all the way through, would probably be far more effective as a short or a segment in an anthology, of which director Caye Casas has experience, having contributed to a couple previously. With the movie firing its bolt so early on, the writing has to maintain the tension and hold your interest for another 80-or-so minutes and it does just about get away with it, although it does come perilously close to losing it once Carlos and Cristina arrive and scenes with them are obviously padded out, such as an elongated dinner scene which involves Jesús having visions that don’t really have the effect they should or would if the pace were a little snappier.
Nevertheless, The Coffee Table doesn’t meander too much and once the full revelation of what has happened is revealed to all the characters – plus a visitor to the flat, in a darkly amusing sub-plot that just goes to highlight what a doomed character Jesús is – then it wraps up in probably the only way it could, the tension that has been built up finally dispersing, albeit not in the most delightful way, but it is what you have stayed the course to find out, and it works to great effect.
Coming backed with cast and crew interviews, two short films by Caye Casas and an audio commentary by Zoë Rose Smith and Amber T, the limited edition Blu-ray also includes a 120-page book featuring contributions from various academics and critics, six art cards and a rigid slipcase, so yet again Second Sight prove they know how to package such a delightfully bleak but blackly funny movie, giving you the movie to watch and plenty of extra ideas and perspectives to explore and dissect, which is a very apt word given the circumstances.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Chris Ward
