Have you ever kept a secret that held an almost acidic power? For every minute contained it feels as though you’re sizzling from the inside – an intestinal fajita of sorts – a burning truth that only you can know, and if you were to reveal, the consequence would be life-shattering? The Coffee Table is, at its core, an hour and a half of a man holding onto such a secret, a truth too brutal and devastating to face, while the audience is forced to hold our breaths with this man until the bitter, brutal end.

We here at Whiskey & Horror love a nasty little number, and The Coffee Table from writer/director Caye Casas is a Spanish doozy, a heartbreaking portrait of the terrors of fatherhood and the dangers of household furniture. Opening in the low-lit bowels of a fixtures store, new parents María (Estefanía de los Santos) and Jesús (David Pareja) bicker over a gaudy, gold-plated glass coffee table while their son waits with the pure, angsty impatience of an adorable newborn. The tension is thick between the couple, as María’s not-so-subtle barbs poke at her husband, who takes them with a tired acceptance. In the end, Jesús gets his way – presumably for the first time in their relationship – and the family heads home with the table.

To speak further on the plot would give away the shocking catalyst and downward spiral of the film, so the obvious move is to focus on what makes The Coffee Table an incredibly effective horror film – characters, claustrophobia, and nausea-inducing tension. Taking place over the course of a single day, Casas has written a world that feels stark and real, creating two characters who each carry their own world-weary baggage while experiencing parenthood that wasn’t fully desired by one person in the party. There are moments between María and Jesús that feel genuinely tender, but there is an overarching strain that threatens the widening gap in the relationship.

The Coffee Table builds upon themes of want and need. María seems to not have wanted, but needed a baby to fulfill her perceived purpose, while Jesús was presumably perfectly happy with their family of two. There is an overt resentment from María towards Jesús for not being more present and passionate about fatherhood, and a more simmering indignation concealed by Jesús toward María for her constant nagging and invalidation of his insecurities. The relationship is complex and lived-in, and, like the small apartment the three reside in, holds onto those dark secrets behind closed doors.

The character of María is almost unforgivably irritating at times, but at other times nurturing and sincere, while Jesús consistently vacillates between pathetic and sympathetic, challenging the viewer at every turn to stick with him through the dread and unhinged panic of his day. The performances by David Pareja and Estefanía de los Santos are raw, heartbreaking, and infuriating, and I have no doubt in my mind that Caye Casas will be delivering his unique brand of horror for years to come.

The Coffee Table is available now on Streaming and DVD (buy physical media!!)

Rating: 💀 💀 💀 💀 .5/5