‘No one should sleep’
Director: Antonio Méndez Esparza
Cast: Malena Alterio, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón, José Luis Torrijo
Year: 2023
Premiere: November 17, 2023
★★★
The latest film by Antonio Méndez Esparza marks a deliberate step into fully fictional storytelling, a shift from the hybrid forms he explored in his earlier work. His previous projects, which threaded together documentary sensibilities with narrative drive, laid the groundwork for a bold transition. In this new feature, the director charts a path that remains deeply human, intimate, and observant, even as the plot grows more expansive and formally crafted. The film carries the weight of social observation while retaining a personal, almost diary-like tone that invites viewers to watch life as it happens, with all its imperfect timing and surprising turns. The storytelling is sturdy, the mood is restrained, and the emotional stakes feel earned rather than amplified for effect. The result is a cinema experience that balances realism with moments of unexpected grace, producing a narrative that lingers long after the credits roll.
The central figure is a woman navigating a sudden and disorienting career pivot. A computer programmer who loses her job at a critical juncture, she does not slip into despair so much as she pivots with stubborn resilience. She chooses the unlikely profession of taxi driving, trading the predictable routine of an office for the unpredictable theatre of the city streets. From behind the wheel, she observes a spectrum of people who cross her path. Some are gracious and hopeful, others brusque or dismissive, and a few remain enigmatic, never fully revealing their inner motives. The urban setting—Madrid in this case—becomes a living, breathing backdrop to a story that is more about people than about any single plot twist. The director uses this environment to explore how ordinary encounters accumulate, sometimes quietly, sometimes with explosive clarity, shaping a life in real time.
What emerges is a document of everyday reality rendered with a cinematic fluency that is both precise and compassionate. The filmmaker threads together mundane scenes—drives through familiar streets, chance conversations, moments of personal doubt—and allows them to flow into a larger meditation on desire, autonomy, and the thin line between craving control and surrender. The narrative pace is deliberate, never rushing to fabricate suspense, yet it often reveals layers under the surface that hint at a larger, more ambiguous truth beneath the day-to-day routine. The film does not shy away from the harsher possibilities of life, including elements that verge on the grotesque or the absurd, but it maintains a footing in human experience that makes the darker moments feel earned rather than sensational.
Performances anchor the film with a quiet intensity. Malena Alterio’s portrayal of the lead is restrained and lucid, offering a portrait of resilience that feels both relatable and specific. The supporting cast—Aitana Sánchez-Gijón and José Luis Torrijo among others—provides a spectrum of personalities that populate the streets and the car as if they were characters in a larger, improvised play. The dialogue is delivered with a natural cadence, avoiding melodrama while still allowing small insights to illuminate the larger questions at play. The film’s atmosphere is enriched by the subtleties of everyday speech and the unspoken tensions that simmer beneath ordinary conversations.
As the narrative unfolds, the line between reality and perception blurs with deliberate artistry. The film invites viewers to read between the lines, to notice how small choices—where to drive, when to speak, whom to trust—accumulate into a larger arc of personal transformation. There are echoes of classic cinema in the way the camera lingers on faces and micro-expressions, capturing the unspoken truths that words often fail to convey. Moments of intensity arrive with a sharp, almost surgical clarity, and then recede, leaving behind a residue of empathy and reflection. The tonal balance of the piece shifts from contained drama to occasional surreal, almost fantastical touches that remind the audience that life, in all its complexity, can feel both terrifying and luminous at the same time.
At its core, the film is an examination of agency. The protagonist’s decision to reorient her life around a new form of work becomes a broader meditation on what it means to seize an opportunity when the odds seem stacked against you. The city’s rhythm mirrors her inner fluctuations, and the film suggests that true change often arises not from dramatic upheaval but from small, persistent choices made day after day. The narrative rewards attentive viewers who notice the quiet cues and who stay with the characters through moments of discomfort as well as tenderness. The result is a compelling portrait of survival, adaptability, and the stubborn hope that sustains a person when the world appears unyielding.
The film ultimately offers a humane, thought-provoking experience. It treats its characters with dignity, avoiding easy judgment even as it presents difficult truths. The blend of realism and lyrical, almost dreamlike sequences creates a texture that feels both intimate and universal. Viewers are left with a sense of having witnessed not merely a story about a life in transit but a meditation on the ongoing, intimate work of making a life out of the fragments that come one day at a time. This is cinema that invites discussion long after the lights come up, prompting audiences to reflect on their own routines, decisions, and the quiet power of choosing to keep moving forward. [Citation: Film press materials and contemporary reviews]