
Life is filled with events that we celebrate – births, marriages, birthdays and anniversaries, and there are even cultures where it is tradition to turn a funeral into a festive occasion, paying tribute to the dearly departed. Yet, there are a few moments in life that are rarely celebrated, at least in the conventional sense, one of which is the end of a relationship. Usually viewed as awkward at the best of times, and harrowing at the worst, break-ups and divorces are not given the same attention when it comes to festivities, despite usually signalling the start of a new chapter for those involved, which is certainly worth celebrating an extent. In his most recent directorial outing, Jonás Trueba explores this exact concept, which is delivered in the form of The Other Way Around (Spanish: Volveréis), a film that follows a pair of middle-class intellectuals named Alejandro and Alejandra as they prepare to end their relationship, which they are choosing to do by throwing a big party, attended by friends and family, under the belief that despite indicating their love no longer exists as it did before, both they and their closest friends deserve one final opportunity to celebrate what once existed, as well as helping ring in the new chapter in their respective lives. A strange premise, but one that does work exceptionally well, particularly in how it looks at love from many different angles, The Other Way Around is a terrific work handcrafted by one of Spain’s most exciting young filmmakers as he once again sets forward to explore a different side of contemporary life, doing so through an outrageously funny and oddly heartfelt comedy that is both moving and provocative. This is exactly what we expect from this kind of intellectually charged contemporary twist on romantic comedy and its numerous hackneyed tropes that Trueba and his cohorts singlehandedly unsettle for the sake of this marvellously offbeat masterwork that looks at love from a completely different angle than we would expect.
The Other Way Around is a film built from the simplest of premises: what if a couple that has been drawn together and connected by their similarities decides to not only end their relationship on the most copacetic of terms but do so in a manner that celebrates the conclusion of what they both see as a fruitful partnership that has now run its course. Immediately, the film shows its aptitude for looking at common ideas from a completely different angle – suddenly, the concept of hysterical, melodramatic break-up stories is dismissed in favour of a more cerebral, complex depiction of the end of a relationship. It’s from this one-sentence premise that Trueba manages to find fertile ground for a more compelling examination of not only romance as a construct defined by generations of people who view marriage as the ultimate goal, but also as a sharp social critique, which is where the film fits in perfectly with everything else Trueba has done up until this point (which is particularly notable considering he has not settled on a particular style or genre yet – he is as at ease making a poignant documentary as he is a lightweight romantic comedy, both being executed with the same level of precision and dedication), and which shows his keen sense of awareness for society and its various inexplicable conventions. Trueba sets out to explore these various elements and their underlying complexities, which he weaves into this relatively straightforward story of a couple deciding to end their relationship but not knowing quite how to approach this kind of symbiotic emancipation from one another, and in the process immerses us in this provocative deconstruction of a relationship that falls apart, albeit for purely academic reasons that turn out to hold some uncomfortable truths that neither of the protagonists are ready to confront, and which gives the audience something to think about while exploring the many complex ideas that simmer beneath the surface of this film.
Trueba is instinctively a collaborative filmmaker, which is likely why each one of his films feels so starkly different, as they’re crafted to reflect the sensibilities of the people with whom he is working, on both sides of the camera. The Other Way Around follows the same logic, being written in conjunction with the two lead actors, Itsaso Arana and Vito Sanz, who work closely with the director to help him realize the underlying themes, bringing their unique perspectives and therefore creating a screenplay that has many different angles, rather than just a singular vision. This makes an enormous difference considering the scope of the film and what it is exploring, particularly in how it investigates different sides of the same subject. Moreover, the performances delivered by the two leads are made all the richer and more evocative as a result of this approach, with both Arana and Sanz bringing these challenging characters to life with elegance and honesty. These are very simple performances, but have a depth to them that is quite magnificent, with the focus being on authenticity more than eccentricity, the latter still occurring in the film, but as an additional benefit of their wonderful performances rather than the factor that drives them forward. They worked together to tailor these characters to the actors, meaning that every line of dialogue or wordless gesture is precise, crafted to match their intentions in such a way that enriches the film and makes it far more compelling and meaningful than a more conventional romantic comedy would be, which is the aspect from which The Other Way Around deviates from convention most significantly. Undeniably poignant in its characterization, the film presents two complex individuals as its protagonists, not being afraid to show them as deeply flawed characters, and allowing the entire story to flourish through their simple but detailed depictions of people who are confronting their quandaries, which manifest in their growing distance from one another, despite being the perfect matches, which is the central irony that the film examines in close detail and from which most of its humour is extracted.
Narratively and structurally, The Other Way Around has many unique qualities, but it is ultimately a film that falls into that category of overly verbose comedies that focus on a simple premise, which is dissected down to the finest detail, which requires the viewer to take an almost academic stance on the material. Trueba is a brilliant filmmaker and one who knows exactly how to craft a compelling narrative while still presenting something unique and detailed. There is a version of this film that is just a one-dimensional portrait of a pair of individuals planning their breakup, but this can only go so far before it becomes dull, which is exactly what Trueba and his partners were insistent on avoiding. Instead, we get a very simple film that takes the form of a complex character study about two people drifting apart, and where some of the most intriguing ideas take place in the margins. The execution of this film is what sets it apart from the many similarly-themed works that tackle similar material, especially since it is working from a familiar playbook when it comes to its underlying themes. It’s not a case of Trueba insisting on making something bespoke, but rather taking common ideas and reconfiguring them to be perceived from an entirely different angle. Entering into the film, we are confronted with a premise that promises to be wildly entertaining and perhaps slightly absurd – but by the end, not only have we undergone a genuine emotional journey with these characters that ventured into the decidedly more bleak territory, but we start to see its themes as being more than just trivial comedy, but rather a complex series of meanderings through the final stages of a relationship as two individuals struggle to hold onto the final vestiges of their romance, beginning to question whether they loved each other in the first place, as well as wondering if there is any way to reignite the spark that they have both declared entirely extinguished in the opening moments. The tonal shifts are clear but elegant, and Trueba avoids heavy-handed posturing, preferring to allow the commentary to speak for itself, which is precisely the aspect of the film that keeps us so thoroughly engaged and intrigued.
The Other Way Around is the rare kind of romantic comedy that has an outlandish premise that is nonetheless recognizable, precisely because of the dedication shown by the director and his cast in making a realistic film without sacrificing the valuable humour evoked by a very unconventional scenario. It is far from orthodox in both narrative and execution, but its simple and unfurnished approach to exploring romance from a decidedly more challenging perspective does yield tremendous results. Trueba is one of our most gifted auteurs, and his ability to weave language and visuals together to create such a vibrant, energetic portrait of romance (or rather its decline) is wonderful and indicates that he is an essential voice in contemporary cinema that dares to push boundaries with every new work he produces. It may seem like a relatively conventional film on the surface, but the further we venture into the story, the more we start to notice the underlying details that contribute to the more unnerving portrait of modern love, which was the purpose of this project as a whole. Filled with heartful humour that is undercut by a sense of melancholy as it progresses, The Other Way Around is a terrific film, carefully crafted by a director whose attention to detail and willingness to collaborate with other artists, bringing their vision to the table and allowing them to contribute their unique ideas, is all part of the appeal of this film, and one of several reasons why it is destined to become one of the more evocative examinations of romance in modern cinema, both for its unique approach to common themes and its ability to present familiar ideas in a manner that is enticing and charming in equal measure, never losing sight of its vision while still presenting a bold portrayal of contemporary life.