Un Hombre de Suerte: A Quiet Gem for Old Film Fans?

So, 'Un hombre de suerte' from 1930. Is it *worth* watching today? Well, that really depends on what you're looking for. If you appreciate seeing how movies used to, well, *move* and talk, before everything became so fast-paced, then absolutely. It's a nice little curio for film history buffs or anyone wanting something quiet on a lazy afternoon. But if you need a quick plot, big action, or even just modern sound quality, you'll probably find it a bit of a slog. It’s a gentle film, not a demanding one. 🎬

Right from the opening, you're hit with that unmistakable 1930s film vibe. The sound feels a little thin, like it's coming from a separate speaker in the room. You just adjust to it, you know? Or you don't. It's part of the charm, I think.

Valentín Parera, our lead, plays this character who just seems to *fall* into good things. He doesn't really try hard, just... luck. A lucky break here, a chance encounter there that solves a problem he didn't even know he had. Sometimes it feels a little *too* easy, honestly. Like the script writers just said, "And then he got lucky!"

There's this one scene, pretty early on, set in a bustling café. The camera just sort of sits there for what feels like a long, long time. It watches people mill about, drink coffee. The extras look a little unsure what to do with their hands. It’s got this charming awkwardness, almost like watching a school play where everyone's trying their best.

María Luz Callejo, she's got a real presence. Even when she's just standing there, you get the feeling she’s thinking something very important. Her eyes do a lot of the talking, which is great because sometimes the actual dialogue feels a bit… stiff. Like they had to hit very specific marks.

The whole "man of luck" idea, it's not really explored in any deep, philosophical way. It’s mostly just a setup for a series of minor little mishaps and eventually, some happy outcomes. You can almost feel the movie trying to tell a grander story about fate, but it keeps pulling back, sticking to the surface.

One moment that really stuck with me: a character is talking about some grave "dilemma," and the camera suddenly cuts to a tight close-up of a teacup on a table. Just a teacup. It stayed there for what felt like ages. I kept wondering if they'd just run out of film for the actor's reaction shot or something. It was very peculiar. 🤔

Roberto Rey's character, he's the grumpy one, of course. Always scowling, always predicting the worst. He’s a good contrast to Parera’s easygoing nature, but sometimes you just want him to crack a smile. Just once, for goodness sake!

The sets are simple, but they do a good job. You get a real sense of the era, the slightly formal parlors, the not-too-spacious living rooms. Nothing flashy, which is probably for the best. It really lets you focus on the people and their very polite problems.

Near the very end, there’s what you might call a chase scene. It's less a high-speed pursuit and more like a hurried walk through some city streets. The editing there felt a bit choppy, like they were stitching together whatever takes they had available. Very *of its time*, you know?

Overall, 'Un hombre de suerte' isn't going to be anyone's all-time favorite movie. But it has this quiet, understated charm. It’s a lovely little peek into an older style of filmmaking, a reminder of how it all began. Not a masterpiece, but a nice little curio for those who appreciate old cinema. Give it a watch if you're in the mood for something gentle and historically interesting. 🕰️

Things that stood out:

• The way everyone spoke so *properly*, even when they were clearly upset.
• That one elegant dress María Luz Callejo wears, very striking.
• The slightly awkward pauses after someone finished a line of dialogue.
• How simple the solutions to problems often were. No big complex twists!
• The way a character would just *appear* at the exact right moment to deliver a crucial piece of information.