Watching Don Quintín el amargao, or why being grumpy is a full-time job

Is it worth your time?

If you like old, scratchy black-and-white films that feel like they were pulled from a dusty attic, sure. This isn't for the popcorn-chomping crowd who need a jump scare every five minutes. If you enjoy seeing how people lived and acted in the 1930s—and have a high tolerance for extreme grumpiness—you might get a kick out of it.

Honestly, if you hate slow-burn dramas or characters who are genuinely unlikable for the sake of being jerks, skip this. It's not trying to win you over. Don Quintín is a piece of work.

The Grump Factor

There is something almost impressive about how committed Jacinto Higueras is to being an absolute nightmare of a person. You watch him and wonder how anyone ever put up with him. He spends the first half of the film acting like the world personally offended his ancestors. It’s heavy stuff, but the way he holds his jaw? It’s pure stubbornness etched into his face. 😠

The pacing is a bit weird. It drags, then it suddenly jumps forward. It reminds me a bit of the frantic, messy energy in Las de Méndez, where you’re never quite sure if the scene is supposed to be funny or just depressing. One minute you’re watching a domestic tragedy, and the next, you’re thinking about how bad the furniture looks.

Odd Little Moments

• That one scene with the doorway—the way the shadows fall makes it look like he’s haunted by his own hallway.
• The dialogue is so fast. Sometimes I felt like I was losing half the plot just because the actors were rushing to get through their lines before the reel ran out.
• Wait, is that guy in the background just reading a newspaper for ten minutes straight?

I couldn't help but compare the general 'old-timey' vibe to Veiled Aristocrats. There’s a similar stiffness in how people walk into rooms. Like they’re waiting for a cue that never comes. It’s endearing, in a way. It feels raw. You can almost smell the hairspray and the old film stock.

The movie doesn't really try to make Quintín 'redeemable.' It just lets him be miserable. There’s a certain honesty in that, I think. Most modern movies are so terrified of having an unlikable lead. This one just leans into it.

Maybe it’s because it’s a Buñuel-adjacent project, but you get these tiny flashes of weirdness. A look, a pause that lasts way too long. It’s not smooth, but it’s human. It’s a messy, grumpy, slightly dated look at a man who forgot how to be happy. Don’t expect a masterpiece. Just expect a long, strange afternoon with a man who really needs a nap and a change of perspective.