As a mental condition, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is rarely afforded the attention it deserves when it comes to representation in the media. In most case, it is used as a punchline, a way of drawing attention to the neurotic and obsessive behaviours of those who suffer from it, as if they are simply one-dimensional individuals without much merit outside of their supposedly hilarious ailment, which is the subject of many jokes. Undeniably, you can’t blame many filmmakers from exploiting OCD as a character trait, since it is often viewed as being a relatively minor issue, something that can be cured with therapy. However, anyone that does suffer from it will undoubtedly tell you that it is far from being nearly as entertaining an experience as the movies would lead you to believe, and that the constant trivialization of this very real condition is quite inappropriate, if not outright upsetting in many instances. There have been sporadic attempts to present a more human side to the condition, but unfortunately many of these works usually tend to conflate OCD with a wealth of other conditions, or it becomes either too lightweight, or too excessively dour. Recently, a film was produced that was slightly more balanced in terms of its perspective, looking at the condition through the lens of humour, but never being flippant or taking advantage of the situation. Toc Toc (taken from the Spanish term for the condition, trastorno obsesivo compulsivo) is a charming, well-constructed comedy with an abundance of heart and some terrific performances that anchor it, providing audiences with a lovable, but often quite revealing, glimpse into the minds of people who suffer from a condition that is not given much time or attention in mainstream scenarios, making this film something of a revelation.

The premise of Toc Toc is almost patronizingly simple – six individuals (five with OCD, one with Tourette’s Syndrome) meet at a psychologist’s office, waiting for this mysterious doctor to make an appearance after having had their appointments booked months in advance, only to realize that not only have they all been given the exact same slot, but the doctor himself is not there, having apparently been trapped abroad after his flight was delayed. At a loss for what to do, and desperate to not concede this long-awaited appointment, the patients begin to get to know one another, forming a ragtag group of deranged individuals, each one with a different form of OCD. Ana Maria (Rossy de Palma) has a tendency towards checking and double-checking every minuscule detail of her life, which has led her to be driven to the point of complete anxiety. Emilio (Paco León) is obsessed with numbers and spends his days counting and discussing any arbitrary figures he can find. Blanca (Alexandra Jiménez) is terrified of germs, frequently washing her hands and sanitizing every surface she comes across. Lili (Nuria Herrero) constantly repeats everything she and those around her say, leading to a lot of time wasted in even the most innocuous conversation. Otto (Adrián Lastra) cannot lead a normal life due to his tendency towards sorting everything in this path, which is a cause of a lot of frustration. Joining the group is Federico (Oscar Martínez), who is constantly finding himself in precarious situations due to his inability to stop cursing, his spasms being filled with profanities and insults that drive anyone around him to the point of near insanity. Under the careful guidance of a vaguely sinister nurse (Inma Cuevas), the group begins to wonder whether their therapist was actually delayed, or if they are part of one of his experiments, with his watchful eye being a lot closer than they initially imagined it to be when they all ventured into that urban office.

Vicente Villanueva designed Toc Toc as an outrageous comedy, and it certainly does come across that way. From beginning to end, the film takes on the appearance of a quaint comedy-of-manners, with eccentric characters and a barrage of jokes, many of which are at the expense of unsuspecting individuals, who often have their most distinct vulnerabilities exploited for the sake of humour. However, this is a far more nuanced film than one would expect when looking at it, and the director ensures that, even when he is at his most hilariously irreverent, there’s a general tone of respect to the people who suffer from these conditions. The humour is never at the expense of making fun of these people for their particular challenges that come with OCD, but rather the scenarios that occur around them – for example, Emilio’s tendency towards counting and dependence on numbers isn’t mocked, but rather the specific facts that they manifest in (Toc Toc doubles as something of a non-stop barrage of pointless facts that are both useless and fascinating), and Ana Maria’s constant need to verify every detail of her life is done through the most absurd scenarios, such as her frequent habit of praying in every situation, which is done with a lot of respectful humour. The comedy at the heart of Toc Toc is much more generous than it would seem on the surface, and there’s a sincerity to what the director is doing with the material that helps it rise above simply being a silly comedy about disturbed people, and Villanueva approach to looking at this story in the format of a stage play (setting it mainly in a single location, and depending on the characters to tell the story) makes for rivetting viewing that is a lot more complex than it would seem based on a cursory glance.

Toc Toc is driven by its performances, and the seven central roles are all played by immensely gifted actors. Rossy De Palma, inarguably one of Spain’s greatest performers, is an absolute riot as the pious, fiercely religious older woman who feels shame for her condition, to the point where she refuses to even acknowledge it. She and Paco Leon are the most notable actors in it, and while the latter is as charismatic as ever, it’s De Palma that keeps us engaged with her spirited work as a woman who will never admit that she has a problem publicly, instead choosing to correct it secretly. Each of the characters in Toc Toc is distinct, and the structure of the piece gives each one of them memorable moments, which are only more effective when we contrast them with the nature of the material. There is not a single weak link in this entire film, each of the actors rising to the occasion and playing their characters with a mix of poise and outrageous humour. Special mention must go to Nuria Herrero, whose innocent demeanour makes her one of the most charming parts of the film, and Inma Cuevas, who plays the closest the film has to a villain with such fervent dedication, it’s difficult to imagine how the film would’ve worked without her constantly being a source of complication for the rest of the characters. As a film structured like a stage play, Toc Toc works really well when it comes to defining its characters along well-constructed boundaries, and through making each one of them something of an archetype, but not being too overly reliant on these aspects of the story in how it characterizes them as people, the film manages to be unexpectedly quite complex.

It’s tough not to fall in love with Toc Toc, even if it does require the viewer to have something of a sense of humour, and the ability to be able to take these issues in good faith, not looking at these outrageous comedic scenarios as exploiting the mentally-ill community, but rather celebrating them and their individual struggles, which are shown as far more than just trivial, idiosyncratic quirks used as the fodder for silly humour. There’s a real complexity to this film, one that manifests less through the story, and more through the small details, which are well-placed in the story. Toc Toc isn’t poetry, nor is it the most potent social commentary. Instead, it’s a well-composed social satire made as if it was a zany, broad comedy, with eccentric characters and bizarre situations leading to a series of misunderstandings. In many ways, it seems content to be seen as exactly this, until it becomes increasingly clear that the director had bigger ambitions for this story, which he deconstructs with a fervent dedication that is both admirable and truly entertaining. This is not a revelatory film, but it is one that is layered with meaning, and throughout the story, Villanueva ventures into the minds of these characters and gives us fascinating insights into their lives, all of which comes to form a riveting and truly entertaining social odyssey that is as brilliant satirical as it is unexpectedly moving.