The film’s title comes from a story in Not Everyone (Sixth Floor), written by screenwriter Marta Jiménez Serrano. He hails from Madrid and is in his thirties. After the successful reception of his first novel, Los nombres propios (2021), he has just published these stories, a landscape of emotion and affection that would please anyone who spends time on social networks and appreciates a playful nod to Roland Barthes.
The plot of the film serves not only as a key detail for portraying the story’s protagonist, a seventy-year-old widow who has found cinematic charm and a renewed spark of love, but also as a pivotal element that helped earn a prize. The platform has expanded its catalog with titles that could inspire the book, including classics like Annie Hall, Two for the Road, When Harry Met Sally, Longing for Love, The Green Lightning, and, more recently, You Have. to see it
And the list hints at a volume that explores love in the Tinder era and with artificial intelligence, a light book about light relationships that the author handles with a keen ear, weaving dialogue that feels authentic. Each page reveals a touch of ironic humor and empathy toward the lovers who navigate confusion and desire on a daily basis.
Identification is aimed at readers looking for clarity. Not Everyone, a title that doesn’t quite fit the notion of the stories in the collection, actually implies the opposite. It emerges from a story in which Verónica falls in love again with full conviction and deceives herself about the relationship once more: this time, yes. We tend to think we are unique when we fall in love, and in truth the title suggests that everyone experiences this feeling, with a set of behaviors we share, says the author.
The author pays close attention to small, sometimes ridiculous details, while also painting a broader picture that speaks volumes about how romantic relationships operate in the twenty-first century. He explains that the stories are placed in a contemporary world because writing about it helps him understand the world he lives in. The aim is to discuss things we take for granted yet are considerably newer than they seem: forming attachments, caring for someone who has a child, breaking up, and starting anew amid a few dramas from years past, all while weighing the impact of social networks on younger generations. Everything has changed, and relationships are becoming more open and mobile.
The author notes that he deliberately left out the topics that dominate current love discussions, as he is not convinced they will endure in the same way over time. For example, he mentions polygamy but remains cautious about its frequency in the theoretical landscape. He observes that relationships have grown more flexible and happen at a much faster pace: if intimacy begins today, it should not be taken lightly. Previously, there was more consensus among peers regarding marriage versus nonmarital commitments, but today each couple faces its own temperament. This flexibility is not inherently negative; it allows for building the partnership that works, although it also requires careful attention to countless parameters.
One of the central themes is the deconstruction of masculinity within these new relational parameters. In one story, the author notes, there is a scene that captures the shift in gender roles with particular resonance. A man tells his best friend—who remains friends rather than lovers—that he has always felt compelled to be the “good guy” and asks, what do you have to prove? This moment exemplifies the ongoing reconfiguration of roles and remains a compelling point of discussion during the writing process.