Ten minutes or so into the film we see the perfectly nondescript faces of a 30-ish man, his wife and their young blond daughter.

There, two inches below his hand, was the quiet face of his wife.

Tomas turned and saw tears on the face of his wife.

It was not the face of the banker's wife.

I can hardly wait to see the face of the mayor's wife!

Only the face of his wife, dead now two years, very nearly.

Staring at him from the photographs was the almost unrecognizable face of his young wife.

With great shock and disbelief, he looks into the face of his supposedly dead wife.

He managed to focus his attention and eyes on the face of his wife.

Her eyes never left the face of Simon Doyle's wife.