Ayer no termina nunca

Isabel Coixet has already disappointed me before with My Life Without Me , but I decide to give her a second chance and went to the The Secret Life of Words, but I could only confirm my first impression: I was not in a bad mood day, the film was really thin.

In this third, (this is the last), Coixet's film that I viewed, I could at least discern what is so annoying in her. This phony poetic moments and predictable characters don't work to make a compelling story. This cliché plagued films neither managed to tell you something new, not to raise any emotion. The film is pretentious, but fails to reach anything of value. Being quirky doesn't mean you are special. Trying to be 'cool' is the easiest thing you can do to make a film fail.