Catalonia is not particularly well-known for its cinema. Media in Catalan, one of the minority languages spoken in parts of Eastern Spain and Andorra, is often regarded as a statement, especially considering the region’s tumultuous politics in recent years. Notably, Catalonia’s controversial bid for independence has deterred many from consuming Catalan media entirely, which is a shame, since many of the area’s films, like A House on Fire(Casa en flames) (2024), are exceptional and worthy of attention.
I saw A House on Fire, a comedic domestic melodrama, at the 43rd Cambridge Film Festival, and was blown away by it. The wildly entertaining feature from Dani de la Orden, tells the story of a Barcelonan family who are staying at their Costa Brava holiday home for the summer when cracks start to show between them. Lies, deceit and manipulation are rife! They are most notably exhibited by protagonist Montse (Emma Vilarasau) whose sly control pervades the whole plot as much as it pervades every aspect of her children’s lives, making the film deliciously gasp-worthy as her cunning techniques become increasingly deranged.
Despite this, all Montse really wants is to maintain familial peace, and stamp out the figurative (and literal!) flames of the burning home the title alludes to. Her countless outrageous attempts at controlling her children and Spanish ex-husband, Carlos (Alberto San Juan), provoked many peals of laughter from my audience as Montse’s desperation reached new heights. Despite being about the, at times, tragic plight of a mother who sees her family crumbling around her, A House on Fire is perhaps one of the best comedies of recent years.
This comedic tone might allow A House on Fire to break through to cinephiles world-wide. Alcarràs (2022), a slice of life film about Catalan agriculture, came close, however other Catalan films, such as Suro (Cork) (2022) and Creatura (Creature) (2023), both films which also foreground the importance of nature in Catalan culture, did not particularly reach audiences outside of Catalonia and wider Spain.
However, could A House on Fire be the one to change that? The film is unashamedly Catalan; it has beautiful Costa Brava locations, an occasionally coarse sense of humour, commentary on the plurilingualism of belonging to a Catalan-Spanish family: all aspects that are intrinsic to modern Catalan lifestyle. However, at the film’s core lies a story of a dysfunctional family trying to hold itself together, come what may, something that is universal in its, at times, uncomfortable truths and brutal honesties.
Despite being about the, at times, tragic plight of a mother who sees her family crumbling around her, A House on Fire is perhaps one of the best comedies of recent years.
Consequently, I live in hope that one day Catalan cinema will break through to the mainstream. Catalonia’s national identity is rich and potent so, filtered through the medium of cinema, we can expect to see new perspectives and a unique narrative flare.
