Nat goes to live for rent in a dilapidated house in the middle of the countryside of La Escapa, Aragon. The landlord is rather rough and leaves her an obviously shabby, wounded and scarred dog.

She continues to be a translator but at a distance; previously she dealt with the dramatic stories of immigrant women but the emotionality procured by those experiences lead her to move away.

She finds herself in an extremely bizarre rural setting; the house is in tatters and when it rains water gets in everywhere and while claiming this discomfort the master responds to her violently by reminding her that he warned her and met her on the price with an always intimidating attitude. Males in general prove helpful but treacherous and Nat will be rather embarrassed by intrusive attitudes not shared also avoided.

The seemingly kind and helpful glazier neighbor turns out to be rather indiscreet and the family with two daughters and another on the way open to invitations and newcomers hides something strange.

Andreas, referred to by the few locals as "the German," is actually Armenian: a big man who shows up one day offering to repair her roof if she will allow him to "get inside" her, in an extremely pragmatic contractual manner. She will answer him no.

After a few rainy days it will be Nat who will show up at his place allowing him to "enter" her... From there will inexplicably follow a series of encounters that will confirm the woman's attractive obsession with this man, until a rather predictable outcome.

Loosely based on the novel A Love by Sara Mesa, it analyzes the genesis of a strange one-sided love against the backdrop of a marginal reality ruled by prejudice.

Then again, she, too, is a foreigner, and the feigned welcome extended to her by the inhabitants, including the elderly couple with a wife in dementia, will not hesitate to present her with a bill.

The dog she calls Burbero, subjected to a veterinary examination will be diagnosed as hermaphroditic, a rather rare occurrence in the course of embryonic development: it will cause her some problems; nevertheless, she will continue to experience him as the only truly reliable creature.

In this environment Nat moves with a suspicious and distrustful look, especially when she receives unsolicited attention; the place was supposed to be a quiet refuge for her in which to feel at home while it turns out to be dangerous and ominous.

Everything seems precarious; a few small stores and homes of peasants and small traders shuttling between La Escapa and Petacas, the nearest and best-supplied center.

Coixet returns with another female character, outlines a deliberately incomplete and vague portrait of her subjected to harsh and unpredictable survival in a violent, counterfeit and hypocritical context.

As if to subject to analysis the resilience of a woman who fled from pain and found herself in captivity.

The seemingly misleading title is actually meant to emphasize probably the only choice initially suffered and then acted upon by Nat herself: everything else is but a consequence of vicissitudes that produce the woman's fate. Fragile, rather confused, yet courageous if portrayed with that sense of inadequacy in answering the questions that life poses to her, especially when she is in a claustrophobic and obtuse immobile context like La Escapa.

It seems inevitable not to point out the striking similarity between the story of the small dog town called Dogville by Lars von Trier (with all due respect), and this story: in both, the stigma is undeniable. Small communities reactionary and torpid, violent and ostracizing.

As there, too, the inhabitants here set the rules of the game, reckon with the transgressions of others, make unappealable judgments and mete out exemplary punishments, including and excluding the stranger, fugitive or not, to begin his descent through the infernal circles of social reprobation.

Here the walls are there differently from Dogville, albeit fragile, precarious and transparent: here, too, everyone knows everything that is going on, albeit within the walls of home.

Nevertheless, Coixet succeeds in framing a complex, extremely multifaceted female character heedless of how incomprehensible and unconventional she may be: interest converges on the mystery surrounding the past and interiority of a woman who is brave though wounded, unresolved yet complex.

The inner journey in a precarious home, in a depopulated country ready to lynch you as soon as she welcomed you: a harsh and icy tale, realistic yet extremely ominous and sinister with escape and final pseudo-catharsis.

We wanted to be a soul and a miracle

Why is love sometimes so mean?

The spell has lost its power

Almost frozen together..

It will always be good again

No matter how much it hurts now,

no matter how dark it may get.

It's always day

Sometimes I hear the earth screaming in pain

Why are people so bad sometimes?

The world has lost its mind

...................................

Es wird wieder gut (Lange Fassung)

Max Raabe & Palast Orchester

30-Oct-2023 by Beatrice