We appreciated the film very much. The public, including members of the press, shared in the excitement.
The scene in the AVE showed a man looking worn and distracted by his cellphone and headphones. Tears rolled down as healing began, not from sadness but from the realization that the story on screen acts like a mirror. It invites viewers to discuss the family car, the father, the grandfather—moments that feel intimately close.
Interestingly, the screening sparked the strongest reactions among mature men. The House seems to carry a distinctly masculine sensitivity that has been rare lately in Spanish cinema.
That intergenerational masculine stance makes it hard for many to say words like I’m sorry or I love you to those closest. Paco Roca, a sensitive filmmaker in his own right, captures this truth with unusual honesty. If a person does not feel moved by the film, it may be less than human and more like a tire or something artificial, a provocative thought that lingers after the credits.
In The House, a group of brothers gathers to decide what to do with their childhood beach house after their father’s passing. They discuss many topics, yet the film remains simple and unpretentious. It explores how to mend wounds in general and reveals the healing power of brotherly love. During the press event, an actor named Óscar de la Fuente grew visibly emotional as he recalled how closely some scenes mirrored his own family history. Does a similar resonance ever happen to the viewer?
When the project reached him, the actor was curious. Although he was not the initial choice for his character, the opportunity felt right. Personal memories—his grandmother’s involvement with housework and his parents nearby in conversation—made the project feel powerful, almost destined. It seemed as if the movie was calling to him.
What does the film teach about memory?
The core message is to remember, even if the moment has passed. The grandfather, who died without ever saying I love you, remains a touchstone. The narrator often tells his six-year-old daughter that he loves her, sometimes with a bit of playful urgency: Lupe, eat the pasta, I love you. The lesson is to live in the moment. Parents may pass on genetics, but their real influence comes from everyday actions. There is a softer saying: parents educate, often without realizing they are teaching. Seeing a parent’s everyday behavior shapes the child more than any lecture ever could. The moral is simple yet powerful.
One standout feature of The House is its economy—its modesty, and its compact 83-minute runtime. Objects outlive humans, a truth underscored by the story. The film suggests that love and care can elevate seemingly ordinary things when they become part of a family’s shared life. The house itself becomes a character, much like any place we inhabit. Walls, spaces, objects—each carries an emotion and a unique memory, all of which contribute to a larger, priceless tapestry.