Set against the backdrop of Spain’s post-Franco cultural awakening, the story follows Miguel (Javier Bardem in this imagined version), a grizzled, cynical journalist nearing the end of his career. He agrees to meet with Ángela (María Valverde), a young and idealistic journalism student, under the pretense of offering mentorship. But when they accidentally become trapped together in a small bathroom within an abandoned apartment, the meeting evolves into a psychological duel neither of them expected.

What unfolds is not a romance, but a raw and deeply layered conversation about gender, power, truth, and the role of the writer in a shifting society. The confined setting becomes a pressure cooker—forcing confessions, confrontations, and moments of aching vulnerability. Bardem commands every frame with weary gravitas, while Valverde brings a sharp mix of defiance and sensitivity, representing a generation desperate to define its voice.

Director David Trueba uses stillness like a weapon—long, unbroken takes, minimal lighting, and a sparse soundscape create an atmosphere as intimate as it is suffocating. The dialogue is the heartbeat of the film, philosophical but never pretentious, political but deeply personal.

Though the action never leaves the room, the emotional journey feels epic. By the time the two finally part, neither is the same—and neither are we.