The Coffee Table

Casas has an undeniable nose for middle-class peccadilloes, but tone is everything.

For more daring prospective audience members who want to see a well-made film that is certainly unique and never boring, The Coffee Table is the real deal.

The horror of what has happened, described in gory detail late in the third act, never quite plays as “We know we shouldn’t laugh, but we must.”

Kudos to Casas for his commitment to a bold, insane side trip into devastating hell.

This film is a terrible way to spend ninety minutes in the sense that, by choosing to watch the movie, you’re signing up for an hour-and-a-half of a relentless anxiety attack.

Quite possibly the most terrifying film this year and an exciting endorsement for writer-director Caya Casas, whose work is now must-see.

Beautifully acted, concise and devastating.

The Coffee Table is a gruesome and uncomfortable movie. It does not hang its hat on gross out moments, though. Much of its horror is centered around feelings. (Though there is blood. Lots and lots of blood.) It is an wrenching and captivating watch.

... An impressive work of boundary-bashing trauma-baiting from filmmakers who both delight in and profoundly understand their victims’ pain. The ultimate in feel-bad cinema!

Imagine the ill-fated drive in Hereditary was stretched to a feature, and you’ll start to get a sense of what’s in store for what feels destined to be one of 2024’s more disturbing horror films.