El club de los buenos infieles

This film is based on events that occurred in Barcelona in 2015.

Identifying information has been omitted

to protect the families of those involved.

Hold on a second.

If we’re telling the story, let’s do it right.

Tell it from the beginning, with all the details.

When the media got hold of it, they lied and exaggerated the story.

We suffered a lot.

Look!

Look how much we’ve suffered.

It’ll be like therapy, or atonement.

The truth and nothing but the truth.

No holds barred…

Subjectivity: reconstruction of events.

My wife is a fox. She's stunning, gorgeous.

The first time I saw her in the nude

it was like standing at the altar of the Virgin Mary.

Imagine, a woman like that, married to me.

My wife is the best.

She’s rock ’n’ roll, great-looking, funny, intelligent, bright…

She’s the mother of my daughters, although she’s a mother to me too.

She really takes care of me.

And she keeps me in line!

She has a perfect body.

Her eyes, her hair, her skin, the way she smells…

You should see her dance!

Plus she’s intelligent, funny, smart, witty…

She’s a fucking goddess. A goddess, she’s stunning, but...

She’s very good-looking, but the only problem is that...

Is that...

Is that, you know...

When you open a gift, it’s a surprise.

But what if you open that gift a hundred times? A thousand?

No, a million times. What do you do?

You kiss her head like a granddaughter,

squeeze her cheeks like a baby.

You start using cute nicknames.

“Sweetie-pie,” “Baby cakes.”

You see her as one of the family,

your sister, your cousin, your grandma.

And sleeping with one of your family...

That’s incest, right?

You get annoyed by stupid things you never noticed before.

Dirty feet.

She walks round the house barefoot and gets in bed with dirty feet.

The granny scarf, a raggedy sweater, turtleneck underwear...

You love what's behind the appearance.

Night cream. On her face, all over her body.

It’s like sleeping with a wax doll.

You consider yourself a lucky guy.

But you know...

...she doesn't...

Fine. I’ll say it.

She doesn’t turn you on.

You love her… but you don’t want her.

We were... no, we still are friends from way back.

We swore an oath that went:

I swear by all worldly pleasures,

by all the vices and all the booze,

that we’ll always be friends,

no matter what happens,

even if it’s bad.

However messed up you get. Amen!

Amen.

Totally inseparable.

Christ! We said it all the time.

So we kept the oath,

we went to college and we stuck together.

Well…

I was the first to get married.

Marcos got married, I met Nuria…

Marriage, work, responsibilities, commitments…

That’s life, right?

Then we all got an invitation

to the student reunion at our old high school.

I didn’t think twice.

It was a chance to see the old gang again.

I had to go.

What’s up!?

They’d gotten older.

They were older, balder...

they were fatter.

You have to stay in shape!

Use skin cream, take calcium, eat bananas.

So where’s Juanillo?

- He's not here yet. - Must be on his way.

How could we weigh more with less hair?

There we all were...

and it was so great to see them!

We sat down at a table and talked like crazy.

Life's great, work is fantastic, life's amazing.

The night flew by, we were drunk, they closed the restaurant,

we didn’t know where to go and...

I think it was Juan.

I think it was Carlos.

I think it was Marcos.

I think it was David.

Jesus, look out, dude!

OK! Over here Over here!

- What are you doing? - Shut up, OK?

Be careful, dude!

- Oh shit! - Be careful!

Can you keep it down a bit?

You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood!

- Watch your balls! - Don't you get vertigo?

Shut the fuck up!

We're in!

Fucking awesome!

We were fifteen again. Wow. It was epic.

So long since I smoked a joint.

Good, huh? It's from my cousin. Should I get more?

Yeah, sure!

If my wife finds out I’m toking she’ll cut my dick off.

When you get home, make love to her, you'll be fine.

I don’t make love anymore.

- So what do you do? - I'm just a bugbear.

- No more wolfman! -Yeah!

Pass me the joint. Come on, man!

Whoa, that smell!

Yup, it stinks.

Do you guys have a lot of sex with your wives?

Sure! I’m a stud.

- More like a dud. - Moron.

But how often?

I dunno… Per year? Per month?

Per week.

Not weekly, there’s no way because of the girls.

But my wife and I manage, every now and then.

Yeah. If we make an effort we might do it... once.

Once?

Once.

And you, Juan?

More! Way more.

And you, Carlos?

I don’t know, once, sometimes twice.

So you're like me, right?

What do you mean?

You never feel like sleeping with your wives.

- What are you talking about? - Come on, what the fuck, man?

Speak for yourself!

OK, fine! What a pair!

On weeknights,

my mother-in-law stays over

to help with the girls.

The passion fades.

Passion doesn’t fade. Passion is passion.

We’ve accepted this like it’s totally normal.

Doesn't that worry you?

It really doesn't worry you?

It doesn't worry you?

Hey, David. Man, it worries me.

Christ! An honest guy!

So what do you do?

I don't know. What can I do? Nothing.

Some nights I don’t feel like it and I lock myself in the bathroom.

I turn on the faucet, let the water run and...

I wait till she falls asleep.

That's how it is.

I have a secret technique.

I have telekinetic sex.

When I’m in bed with my wife I imagine another woman.

That way I break up the monotony.

Using my method, I’ve had sex...

with Sara Carbonero, Beyoncé…

Even Letizia.

Letizia?

She’s skinny, but she’s the queen!

Damn, we’re in bad shape.

Hey, no big deal, right?

The other night I left work stressed, more than usual.

And I walked into one of these disco bars.

There happiness, life, people having fun, women!

You know, women?

I just took off, scared shitless, I freaked out.

I got home and it was all I could think about.

I needed to go out drinking, dance, get wasted.

I needed you guys.

I needed to tomatify.

“Tomatify.”

We were married!

“Tomatify.”

That was our word for going out to pick up chicks,

when we were kids.

It seemed so long ago.

It was super late and we had work the next day

so we said good night and went home.

It was so late it was already day.

We all went home...

but something... had changed.

In our heads, there was only one thought.

It was insane.

“Tomatify.”

“Tomatify.”

We didn’t realize, but we were opening Pandora’s box

and climbing inside.

I made a WhatsApp group called “Tomato.”

“Tomato, tomato...”

We sent each other 300 messages a day.

Come on!

I ignored them.