In an episode of Seinfeld, when Jerry shares that his recent engagement ended in a mutual breakup, he discovers no one believes him. What’s a breakup without friction? A similar dilemma plagues Ale and Alex, the long-time couple in love and art that anchor Jonas Trueba’s endearing The Other Way Around. This sly and clever reverse reworking of romantic drama tropes warmly suggests that there can be as much hope and connection to be found in splitting up as there is in coming together.
After fourteen years, Ale (frequent Trueba writing and acting collaborator Itsana Arano) and Alex (Vito Sanz) have decided its time for them to move on. There’s no explicit reason why they’ve decided to part ways, but as they discuss the situation early in the film, in their minds there’s not much distance between getting married and breaking up. Both are an acknowledgement and reaction to the fact that things can’t stand as they are. But Ale and Alex have decided to go out with a bang by hosting a party to celebrate their separation. As they make the rounds to their friends and family to announce the news and proffer invitations, they are met almost uniformly with shock. Described as “the perfect couple” and “legends of love,” no one can fathom that Ale and Alex, who continue to get along (mostly) swimmingly, so can calmly end their union, and predictions fly that they’ll just wind up back together again.
As they work through the final stages of their relationship, Ale, a film director, is also grappling with the edit of her latest picture, one that just happens to star Alex, an actor. This meta touch by Trueba unspools episodes of Ale and Alex’s dissolution within the movie she’s cutting. At first, it seems like this intellectual exercise — within a script that casually references Soren Kierkegaard’s “Repetition” and Stanley Cavell’s “Pursuits of Happiness” — may overrun the film’s gentle and warm emotional centre. But Trueba stays light fingered on the self-referential gambit allowing Ale and Alex to blossom even as they’re falling apart.
Trueba effortlessly captures the habits and mannerisms of people who’ve learned to be with someone so thoroughly, that they’re now ready to live without them. It’s not that their love is gone, but perhaps, it’s the sense of discovery that has disappeared. Ale and Alex will comfortably accompany each other to view potential new apartments in one scene, while work through disagreements in the next. But voices are never raised and any resentments are as easily cleared as their frequently clogged kitchen sink. The depth of understanding they have with each other is illustrated in one of the film’s most beautiful moments. After a passive-aggressive quarrel between the pair Ale leaves the house, and Alex retreats to the bedroom. Looking at the bedsheets, he realizes that Ale has just started her period. He quietly removes the dirtied linen and puts down fresh bedding. It might be the most romantic gesture you see on screen all year.
There are few directors who capture summer in Madrid as wonderfully as Trueba. Working with regular cinematographer Santiago Racaj, even as everyone leaves the city during its hottest months, for the filmmakers its this time of year when it shines best as a gorgeous, sun-kissed oasis (a vibe they also transmit in Trueba’s wonderful The August Virgin). It’s a season for opening your windows and greeting the neighbors across the way, escaping into museums for the air conditioning, and idling around flea markets. Racaj and Trueba detail Ale and Alex’s slow move to individual independence like a pleasant vacation where no one’s in a hurry for it to end. “…that’s the film’s premise,” Ale’s editor says in defense of an early cut of her film, “…it progresses by means of accumulation.” So too does The Other Way Around, a tender sendoff to once star crossed lovers that firmly believes they’ll always be in each other’s universe.
Director: Jonas Trueba
Screenwriters: Jonas Trueba
Cast: Itsaso Arana, Vito Sanz
Producer: Javier Lafuente, Jonas Trueba
Cinematography: Santiago Racaj
Editing: Marta Velasco
Production design: Miguel Angel Rebollo
Sound: Alvaro Silva Wuth, Pablo Rivas Leyva
Production companies: Los Ilusos Films (Spain), Les Films du Worso (France)
World Sales: Memento International
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Directors’ Fortnight)
In Spanish
114 minutes
