The Coffee Table

In a cramped city apartment, Jesús and María are navigating the bewildering first weeks of parenthood while trying to keep ordinary life from unraveling. Their tiny home, inherited from Jesús’s grandmother, feels both a comforting relic and a stage for the absurdities that accompany a newborn. The film introduces their world as a blend of everyday chores—grocery runs, furniture shopping, and sleepless nights—infused with a quirky humor that never quite lets the tension fully settle.

When the couple sets out on a seemingly mundane mission to find a coffee table, the experience quickly turns into a comic showdown with an over‑enthusiastic salesman whose sales pitch borders on the theatrical. María’s sharp, unapologetic wit clashes with Jesús’s more measured demeanor, highlighting the way their distinct personalities both complement and challenge each other. The shop’s bright, almost sterile setting becomes a microcosm of their relationship: bright on the surface, yet hinting at deeper, unresolved friction.

Back in their apartment, the intimate space begins to pulse with subtle unease. The presence of a curious teenage neighbor, a looming family visit, and the ever‑present demands of a newborn create a pressure cooker of laughter, anxiety, and moments that feel just a step beyond the ordinary. The tone shifts fluidly, slipping from light‑hearted banter into a lingering sense of dread, as if the walls themselves are listening for a crack in the fragile façade.

The Coffee Table balances comedy, drama, and a touch of horror, inviting viewers to wonder how far the couple’s patience—and their love—will stretch when the mundane twists into the uncanny. The film promises a story that is as much about the delicate act of building a life together as it is about the surprising, sometimes unsettling, objects that come to define that very process.

Last Updated: August 09, 2025 at 20:01