Berlinale 2026 review: Everything Else Is Noise (Nicolás Pereda)

“A lively, offbeat exploration of human connections, artistic ego and interpersonal dynamics.”

Nicolás Pereda is fascinated by the human condition. His films weave intricate tapestries of ordinary people that blend documentary and fiction in creative ways. Even his narrative features contain deeper truths about the peculiarities of life. This is also the case with his most recent film Everything Else Is Noise, in which he explores, as the title suggests, the concept of noise, which he positions as either an inconvenience or a powerful form of communication, depending on your outlook. The story is simple: Tere is a cellist who has run slightly afoul of her neighbours; one set would prefer she practice in the morning, when they are not at home. The other requests she practice in the afternoon, to allow their baby to sleep. This conflict coincides with the arrival of her friend Rosa, a musician who has agreed to be part of a documentary but needs a space to record it with the film crew, something that Tere is more than happy to provide. Over the course of a few hours, Rosa, Tere and Luisa (her daughter) interact with the documentary crew, who become increasingly annoyed at a range of obstacles, such as power failures, conversational diversions and, perhaps most significantly, the noise from the surroundings. A film that takes a whimsical premise and turns it into a lively, offbeat exploration of human connections, artistic ego and interpersonal dynamics, filled with playful humour that is insightful and rarely superficial, this is a work with both emotional depth and eccentric, endearing humour.

One of Pereda’s greatest artistic gifts is his ability to convey so much through his writing. Dialogue proves to be the beating heart of Everything Else Is Noise, and the main channel for communicating its core themes. The dialogue is authentic and has a quiet honesty to it that feels very lived-in and intriguing. Each exchange subtly exposes who these characters are beneath the surface, demonstrating their quirks and concerns with equal precision. It is through this that we see the development of clear character dynamics and the revelation of the tensions that provide the dramatic context for the story. This film’s strength lies in the script, since most of the story takes place in long conversations that are sharp, witty and filled with nuances – it’s fascinating that this is a film about musicians, since Pereda’s approach to dialogue is through finding a unique rhythm in much the same way a composer would be writing a musical piece. The actors serve as his orchestra, coming together to collaborate on bringing these characters to life. The combination of Tere, Rosa and Luisa makes for a fascinating interplay – Tere, portrayed by Teresita Sánchez, is the grounding presence, the reasonable and level-headed mentor to the two younger women, who are just as razor-sharp, but have their own existential quandaries that form the basis for the film’s underlying tensions. She creates a dynamic trio with Rosa Estela Juárez Vargas, who plays into the more anxious side of her character, and the refreshingly honest creation of Tere’s daughter by Luisa Pardo. The character-driven comedy that emerges through their interactions proves to be a dance where wit and tension (and eventually deep affection) begin to seep through, carrying unexpected emotional weight, and allowing the film to build itself as an insightful exploration of human imperfections.

Drawn from the impeccable writing is the director’s keen control of tone, which is as much a feat of finding a balance as it is constructing an unforgettable screenplay. Pereda effortlessly mixes the offbeat with the bittersweet, creating a film that is as heartfelt as it is absurdly funny. This is certainly not the kind of outrageous comedy that uses broad humour, but instead approaches its themes through witty wordplay and underlining the charm of everyday mishaps, particularly in those moments that are intentionally awkward. This is sharply contrasted by the constant reflections, the film becoming quietly more tender as it progresses. Everything Else Is Noise does manage to be wickedly funny, but once we look beyond the humour, we notice the more nuanced sense of melancholy that underscores the film. It is in these small and inconsequential moments that the film finds its emotional core, revealing the story of a group of people trying to connect while still finding meaning in their own lives. Pereda has made a film that may be very funny, but is nonetheless a deeply humanist narrative, showing the vulnerabilities and complexities of these characters. It becomes as much a satire as it is a complex portrait of people navigating the intersections of family, art and society. Through all of this, the director finds a way to allow humour and sincerity to not only co-exist, but work together in tandem – awkward moments in which we’d expect to feel discomfort eventually become revealing, poignant explorations into these characters’ minds, proving that meaning often lingers in plain sight, accessible to anyone who is simply paying attention.

Some may describe Everything Else Is Noise as merely a minimalist chamber piece in which language and interaction are the primary tools. This is mostly true, but it’s also a reduction of a film that doesn’t intend to be categorised. It combines comedy and drama to tell a story about human connections and how they can often develop fascinating nuances that are worth examining, even in a lighthearted yet meaningful way. Driven by dialogue, the structure of the film feels almost musical, the exchanges between the characters building like the movements in a detailed composition, each sound carrying meaning and proving that a chaotic cacophony can sound like a beautiful symphony with the right approach. Filled with warmth and texture without being idyllic (presenting the city as one that vibrates with life), the director’s method lends some cultural specificity while also keeping everything intimate through focusing primarily on familial dynamics and observations on community life. It all supports the bold suggestion that there’s a very narrow boundary between noise and music, all of which revolves around the balance of chaos and control. This same principle can be applied to everyday life, which is the ultimate thesis statement of this film. It explores how even the most minor gestures, whether physical or verbal, can reveal deeper truths that are both bitingly funny and deeply moving. By the end of the film we’ve witnessed a delightful comedy of errors unravelling, but what truly lingers with us is the underlying message, the depiction of the unconventional but poignant relationship between these women, who provide a strong reminder that art, much like life, can sometimes only emerge in chaotic circumstances, where interruptions are frequent and mishaps tend to occur when we least expect them. Equally as heartfelt as it is hilarious, Everything Else Is Noise is a major work, a melancholic comedy that explores challenging subjects and provides a sincere emotional depth to accompany the gentle but unforgettable humour.