This Utterly Horrifying, Utterly Bizarre Horror Movie With 88% on Rotten Tomatoes Just Hit Shudder

Some subjects feel they should be untouched by the genre of comedy — there are things you just don’t laugh about. And while we are definitely not chuckling when we watch The Coffee Table, this exceedingly dark horror-comedy pushes the boundaries of its genre. The title itself doesn’t give anything away, but director Caye Casas‘ film turns the mundane titular object into a vehicle for the most appalling, heartbreaking sequence, only for it to be interrupted by moments of absurd humor. Between the two extremes of the genre-hybrid, The Coffee Table becomes one of the most dissonant and disturbing viewing experiences ever, finding skin-crawling comedy in the darkest depths of life.

‘The Coffee Table’ Pushes the Boundaries of Horror-Comedy

The Coffee Table follows a couple who are going through a rough patch, made even more obvious by their newfound parenthood. The opening sequence is a masterclass in absurdity, setting a strange tone that belies the events that are about to unfold. María (Estefanía de los Santos) and Jesús (David Pareja) are hunting for furniture and spy a gaudy glass coffee table, held up by twisting golden figures. María hates it, but Jesús considers it a masterpiece, leading to a bizarrely intense exchange with the seedy salesman that exposes the cracks in their relationship. Darkness pervades the entire scene, only lit up with a theater-like spotlight that is aimed at the face of each speaker. It is an intriguing dramatization of furniture-buying, but it sets up the sort of strange, absurdist comedy that would hail the rest of the film.

An Absurdly Great Cast Tortures Each Other in This Disturbing, Real-Life Thriller That Will Leave You Shaking

These fresh-faced actors have gone on to have successful Tinseltown careers.

Jesús ends up getting what he wants and the eye-sore of a coffee table is brought into their home. When María goes out to do errands, Jesús is left alone with his newborn baby and his favorite coffee table, only for the unthinkable to happen — it is likely what you’re imagining, but ten times worse. We are eclipsed in the gut-wrenching horror of the incident, truly dragged down by the weight of what happened, especially as Jesús wades through the awful slew of consequences. But this dark, heavy and torturous sequence that essentially lasts the entire film is often disrupted by incoherent and jarring moments of absurd comedy. From a salesmen with missing screws to a thirteen-year-old girl who believes Jesús is in love with her, to his own wife returning home with guests, Jesús desperately hides the truth while facing his own harrowing emotions.

Absurdity and Grief Are Balanced in ‘The Coffee Table’

Tonally balancing this strange comedy with genuine grief is really achieved through Pareja’s performance. From the moment the tragic incident occurs, Pareja has to convey an array of bitter emotions, where terror, grief and guilt all collide with each other and become mainstays on his face. Casas often situates the camera right in Pareja’s face, allowing him to dominate the PTSD-driven scenes with a provocative performance, leaving no room for us to escape from the onus of his despair. The burdensome pace of The Coffee Table also amplifies the pain Jesús is in, leaving us squirming as the constant, claustrophobic suffering doesn’t seem to end.

Pareja’s tortured performance appeals to the absurd comedy of the film as well, as he has to feign normalcy in front of the revolving door of intruders, including his wife. We are forced to sit with his atrocious secret while his wife and their guests are peppered with joy, creating a palpable discomfort. The only reason this horrific humor works is due to everyone else’s oblivion; Jesús’ demeanor comes off as strange if you didn’t know what happened. On the other hand, when you are aware of the tragedy hanging in the air, everyone else’s smiling and laughing faces feel like an affront — some twisted form of black comedy. The Coffee Table makes us question where the line should be drawn for horror-comedy subjects, yet somehow still manages to pull off mixing abject trauma and guilt with comical absurdity that makes for a deeply disconcerting watch.