Stream It Or Skip It?
As I plopped down and fired up Culpa Nuestra (now streaming on Amazon Prime Video), I thinked to my self, I thinked, “is this the one with the rich brooding hunk next door named after a Greek god or the one with the rich brooding hunk who’s a writer or the one with the rich brooding stepbrother who drives cars really fast?” I quickly figured out it’s the stepbrother one, the third in a Spanish trilogy, although the franchise is confusing because there’s a fourth one that’s the same as the first one except it’s in English. So, inventory: The debut was Culpa Mia (translation: My Fault), the sequel was Culpa Tuya (yep, Your Fault) and the latest (final?) is Culpa Nuestra (Our Fault), comprising the continuing story (not counting the anglicized re-do, My Fault: London) of stepsiblings making us very uncomfortable by having sex in front of us. Frequently. Or not frequently enough, if you’re only watching for the skin, especially in this one. So buckle up for the most insipid not-enough-schtup drama possibly ever, and by now, you should know what you’re getting into.
The Gist: Culpa Nuestra just CAN’T be the end of this series. I mean, there are so many more pronouns out there just waiting to bear the burden of fault! Anyway. There’s Noah (Nicole Wallace), in an airport, sitting next to a cute guy on the flight home, a cute guy who almost distracts her from her ex, and also stepbrother, Nick (Gabriel Guevara), whose face is on the cover of Forbes. See, time has passed since Culpa Tuya, enough for Nick to take the reins of his father’s megacorp company, which is a law firm, insurance company, hospital and surely the rest of Ibiza too, probably even the weed shop on the corner. Meanwhile, Noah went to college and shit, and we even get a scene where she clods across campus and walks up to a desk and gets her diploma, which is how people graduate in movies that blow the budget on sports car and mansion rentals.
Anyway again. Noah flies back home to – wait, where is home anyway? It’s Ibiza, I think, but also a big city, I think? A big city with big buildings and the like? It doesn’t matter. It’s Fantasy Land, Spain, a bubble of real estate porn and something on the lower fringe of softcore porn, but only twice in this movie. Twice! In 112 minutes! For a lusty romance, that’s less bare bottoms, more bottom of the barrel. Anyway again again, Noah’s here for her bestie pal Jenna’s (Eva Ruiz) wedding to Lion (Victor Varona), which looks like it costs a paltry 900 grand, give or take a hundo. She’s the maid of honor. And since Nick is Lion’s bestie, he’s the best man. You can see where this is going. Perhaps you recall that these stepsibling lovers (yes, ick, still) had a big flaming bustup at the end of the previous movie, although recalling such things is a struggle if you’re like me, and all the softcore based-on-shitty-novels movie series start to blur together like bad drug trips. So Lion and Jenna are trying to orchestrate a reunion, but it’s just awkward, and results in a SCINTILLATING scene in which Noah and Nick sit in awkward silence in a car, playing petty passive-aggressive games with the power windows, a cinematic exercise that I think earned Daniel Day-Lewis an Oscar that one time.
By the time the reception starts to wind down, our intrepid vapid couple assume the position in the hotel room. This is at the 21-minute mark. The second bangeroo is at 56 minutes. The third occurs presumably after the credits roll. So hold on for your lives, because all of a sudden you’re here for whatever else happens to these people – these people who suck at everything in life except probing each other’s crannies.
Everything in this plot is complicated in the most dumbed-down way. Nick is paired up with Sofia (Gabriela Andrada), but she seems to accept him for who he is: a cretin who beds randos regularly. Noah needs a job and tries some dopey ones (something to do with handing out paper fliers on roller skates? In 2025?) but ends up at a tech company owned, coincidentally, by the same cute guy she met on the plane, Simon Manbun (maybe not his real surname, played by Fran Morcillo), who hires her, and then they begin dating, because Noah can’t have a relationship that isn’t actively pinging the red on the Problematic Scale. Wouldn’t it be funny if Nick bought the majority shares in that tech business so he could meddle in their relationship? No? Well, it happens anyway. Meanwhile, Nick learns his mother is fatally ill, which saddens his little half-sister. Noah’s college friend Michael (Javier Morgade) turns up again and reveals he’s disturbed. And thus begins a rolling snowball of incredibly ridiculous things that conspire to form a tornado of stupidity in the final act. And the only reasonable response is to dive into the nearest ditch and wait it out.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Those other terrible franchises previously referenced? The After movies (After Ever Happy is one of the all-time greatest movie titles) and the Through My Windows. All of which wouldn’t exist without Fifty Shades or Twilight.
Performance Worth Watching: There’s a dog in this movie. It plays a very important role in the big moronic climactic scene. The dog’s name is Thor. He deserved an earlier introduction. He did not deserve to be a plot device – a real canem ex machina.
Memorable Dialogue: Nick reminds us of his old nickname for Noah in a line that struck me as a translation trainwreck: “I still can’t control myself when I’m around you, Freckles. It’s been happening to me forever.”
Sex and Skin: TWO SCENES. And they’re tepid like yesterday’s chowder.
Our Take: If you thought Nick was unlikeable in the first two movies, well, he launches into space this time and lands on Planet Asshole in the Pindick Galaxy near the Douchebag Nebula, all in the Universe of Total Jerks. He lays off a zillion people at the corp to piss off his father, toys with the heart of sweet sexy Sofia (the least-brain-addled character in the movie), is a petulant turd to Simon and shows little respect for Noah’s interests, personality, independence or emotions. But she can’t resist him because the contents of her skull are pudding, tap water and a handful of pennies. I don’t understand the appeal. These characters are empty and useless and emotionally vacant and perhaps they’re an accurate portrayal of epic billionaire failsons and daughters? I wouldn’t know for sure. I don’t know any such people. Seems plausible though.
And so these quasi-people function in the service of a plot that’s a series of vaguely structured things that happen. One of those things is a whopper of a twist leading to a final dramatic stretch that tries to cram every conceivable soap opera cliche into about 12 minutes: blackmail, long-lost psycho exes, a car chase, a race to a hospital, an assassination attempt, a home invasion, a kidnapping, a coma, waking up from a coma so a whole bunch of problems get solved off-screen (e.g., that whole oogy incest-y BANGING YOUR STEPSIBLING thing) and the true heroism of a dog we barely knew existed prior to this climactic moment. Seriously, what the hell are you people watching? You can’t be sober. Can I have some? Please? Sharing is caring, remember.
Our Call: I get it. These movies are supposed to be moronic, slapdash guilty pleasures best consumed while hiiiiiiggggghhhhhh. Doesn’t mean they’re good, or that I have to recommend them. SKIP IT.
How To Watch Culpa Nuestra (Our Fault)
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Credit to Nypost AND Peoples
