The film's most striking choice is its literal and figurative nudity. By trapping the protagonists in a confined space without clothes, Trueba removes their social armor. Miguel, played with a weary gravitas by José Sacristán, uses his eloquence as a weapon and a shield, attempting to maintain intellectual dominance even in his most vulnerable state. Conversely, María Valverde’s Ángela represents a new era of Spanish youth: less cynical, more pragmatic, and ultimately more resilient than the man attempting to mentor her.

represents the old guard: a disillusioned intellectual who lived through the dictatorship and now views the world with a bitter, alcohol-fueled cynicism.

From neon nights of 1987 to the glass-and-concrete present of 2011, this film follows Ana, a seamstress who has worked in the same small atelier for decades. Through five key visits — 1987, 1994, 1999, 2005, and 2011 — we witness shifting storefronts, changing fashions, migrating neighbors and rising rents. Intimate vignettes show a tailor’s gossip, a teenage punk’s cassette exchange, a café that hosts clandestine conversations, and a demolition that unmoors a long-time resident. Intercut with archival footage of Madrid’s plazas, protests and parades, the story is both local and emblematic: a city reshaped by economic waves and cultural tides, where personal histories are constantly renegotiated. The film ends with Ana handing her keys to a younger neighbor, passing on a bundle of old buttons — a small, stubborn inheritance.