Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown Movie Here

“You’re a ghost,” she says. “You don’t love women. You love the beginning of women. And I’m tired of being a prologue.”

Pepa refuses. She’s not a murderer. But then Iván’s son, (20s), a handsome, serious law student, arrives with his fiancée, Ángela —a shrill, hyper-practical woman who wears a gas mask while painting furniture. They’ve come to pick up a suitcase Iván left behind.

This is not just heartbreak. Pepa has given up roles, friends, and even a chance to move to Paris for Iván. And now, he’s vanished. She has one lead: a cryptic message on his office answering machine from a woman named Lucía, who mentions a suitcase and a flight to Stockholm. Pepa’s quest to find Iván quickly becomes a magnet for other unraveling women. women on the verge of a nervous breakdown movie

Then, a commotion. Lucía has woken up, stolen a moped, and crashed it through the airport glass doors. She’s wielding a broken champagne bottle, screaming for Iván. Security tackles her. As they drag her away, she looks at Pepa and shouts, “Do it! Poison him!”

The women watch. Then they burst into laughter. It’s not a happy ending. It’s a starting ending. They order coffee. They clean the apartment. Candela asks if anyone wants to go see a movie. “You’re a ghost,” she says

The apartment becomes a pressure cooker. Candela sobs. The phone rings constantly—wrong numbers, a man asking for “Rati,” and a call from Iván’s answering service. Pepa learns Iván is flying to Stockholm that night. She decides to go to the airport. But first, she needs a car. Enter Lucía (40s), the woman from the answering machine. She’s not a new lover—she’s Iván’s legally insane ex-wife, just released from a mental institution after a decade. Lucía is all manic energy, wild eyes, and a trench coat hiding a secret. She shows up at Pepa’s door while Candela is raiding the fridge.

Desire. Betrayal. Gazpacho. Some days, you just have to laugh before you cry. And I’m tired of being a prologue

Pepa, horrified but also weirdly impressed by Lucía’s clarity, tries to calm her. But Lucía notices the gazpacho Pepa has made—a massive batch, laced with an entire bottle of sleeping pills. Pepa made it for herself, a liquid farewell to consciousness. But now, Lucía has an idea.