The Coffee Table (2024) Dir. Caye Casas

Pascal Laugier’s 2015 French film Martyrs is one of my favourite horrors of all time, and for me, is the yardstick for all extreme fright flicks I have subsequently watched. But for the first time in many years, a new challenger attempts to take its crown - this time in the form of Spanish movie The Coffee Table.

And right off the bat, it’s not as brutally violent as Laugier’s mighty movie but this film will take the strongest of stomachs to persevere with.

The film opens in a banal situation comedy set-up of domestic familiarity, as a couple argue over the purchase of an “ugly” table for their new apartment. The furniture salesman claims it is unbreakable and this well-written back-and-forth exchange lulls an audience into a false sense of tonal security as the couple's petty squabbles provoke dark laughs.

The couple are played by an excellent David Pareja (Amigo) and Estefanía de los Santos (Jaulas) who also have their new baby in tow, before the husband eventually wins out and they purchase the gaudy object.

Once back at their flat, a missing screw sees a telephone call to the store and whilst they wait, the mother heads to the shop for groceries. Yet as Amigo tries to calm his crying baby we are witness of sorts (it happens off-screen thankfully) to a horrendous accident involving the child.

NARRATIVE SPOILER ALERT. There’s literally no way of explaining this next part (but it is the main thread of the film), other than to say the baby is decapitated and its head rolls under an armchair. Whoa. But even just describing (or thinking about describing it) churns the stomach and rightly so. This isn't the introductory horror of a Blumhouse movie!

The awful accident is edited against the neighbourly banter and chit-chat of the mother and her friend in a supermarket aisle. And the film begins to increase its tension as Amigo shockingly decides to cover up what he can by cleaning up, yet cannot face the horror under the chair itself.

Once Jualas returns, she is told the baby is sleeping so not to disturb him and the movie then ratchets up the tension as the audience are aware of the terrible situation with most characters none the wiser.

There’s a whole religious angle to The Coffee Table too. It's obviously on the nose but infuses a great biblical tone to the suburban piece. His Jesus-based email address, the carrying of a “crucifix” (the table) on his back, red wine, a nail (screw), and stigmata-like blood on his palm all alluding to wider themes of unrighteousness and spirituality.

The film’s mixture of tones and story threads are one of its best assets and at 90 minutes, it crams a lot in without ever over-staying its welcome. And as it reaches its denouement, further complications see an infatuated girl next door (and even the shopkeeper) adding to his troubles - before his brother and new wife (who has her own news to share) arrive at the flat for a dinner party.

It takes some intense dread to make me feel queasy these days but The Coffee Table is as macabre as they come - full of revulsion and shock. And as with a lot of Euro-horror, the matter-of-fact tone, style and shot choices make the repugnant qualities all the more real and chilling.

Its exceptional blend of ideas leads to unbearable and excruciating tension and its brilliance lies in showing almost nothing but hinting at everything. It’s an understatement to say this film is “not for everyone”, but if you’re willing to go down a gruesome journey, you may be (un)pleasantly surprised to find out how good this allegorical indie terror truly is.

★★★★

Mike Sales