Qué tío más grande (1923) Review: Pure, chaotic Spanish silent comedy

If you are not a massive nerd for 1920s Spanish silent films, you should probably skip Qué tío más grande entirely. It is loud—well, metaphorically loud, since it is a silent movie—and incredibly messy. 🤷‍♂️

But if you love watching old-school physical theater where actors flail their arms like they are trying to swat invisible bees, this is actually a pretty fun time.

Honestly, the plot is barely there. It feels like a filmed stage play where everyone keeps running into the wrong rooms at the wrong times.

The whole thing was written partly by Pedro Muñoz Seca. He was famous for this super silly, absurd Spanish humor called astracán, which is basically code for "don't think too hard about this, just laugh at the chaos." 🎭

You can totally feel that style here; it is all about cheap laughs and ridiculous setups rather than any deep meaning.

I kept staring at Luis Llaneza's face. The guy has these giant, expressive eyes that look like they are about to pop right out of his skull whenever a woman walks into the room.

There is this one scene where a character tries to hide behind a curtain that is clearly about three feet too narrow for him. It is so stupid, but I laughed out loud anyway. 😅

It has a very different energy compared to American slapstick of the same era, like Battling Romeo. Instead of clean, dangerous stunts, this movie relies on people just looking incredibly offended at each other.

The print I watched was pretty rough, with some scenes looking like they were filmed inside a dusty closet. But somehow, that adds to the charm of the whole experience.

Pepita González is great too, even though the movie does not really know what to do with her besides having her look pretty and shocked. She has this wonderful, sarcastic eye-roll that feels shockingly modern.

By the time the third act rolls around, the movie basically gives up on making sense. It just becomes a parade of people chasing each other around a table.

If you want a neat, tidy story, go watch The Girl in the Taxi instead. But if you want to see early Spanish comedy at its most chaotic, give this one a spin.

Some weird things I noticed:

• The background extras look like they were literally pulled off the street five minutes before shooting.
• One guy wears a mustache that looks suspiciously like it was drawn on with a piece of charcoal. ✏️
• That one very obvious fake plant that gets knocked over and then magically stands back up in the next shot.
• The editing is so abrupt in the middle that I think a character literally teleported across the room.