To speak of “Amador” in Spanish cinema is to delve into a curious hall of mirrors: on the one hand, there is Francisco Regueiro's eponymous film, a dark and singular title from the 60s about a woman-killer; on the other, Fernando León de Aranoa's contemporary social drama, centered on the relationship between a young immigrant and an elderly man confined to his bed. Two very different works, separated by decades and tone, but united by the same name and by a decidedly uncompromising view of the human condition.
In this article we will dissect both films “Amador” -criticism, context and cast- using and reorganizing all available information, to understand why Regueiro's film is considered a cursed and strange piece within the Spanish scene and how León de Aranoa's film becomes a social X-ray about loneliness, immigration and hope, with a change of tone that has generated debate among critics.
“Amador” by Francisco Regueiro: plot, style and context
Francisco Regueiro's 60s version of "Amador" is essentially a very loose and twisted reinterpretation of the Bluebeard myth, transposed to provincial Spain of the time. The premise is disturbing: a businessman who seduces women only to kill them, with no apparent motive beyond a compulsive destructive impulse.
In this film, Regueiro sets the action in an oppressive environment, a small provincial town where everything exudes a morally suffocating atmosphere. The director constructs a somewhat sordid atmosphere, relying on black and white cinematography and a restrained mise-en-scène, but introduces a subtle, sarcastic dark humor that serves as an unexpected counterpoint to the emotional violence of the story.
Amador's character murders his girlfriend Ana in Madrid, and although he's expected in Guadalajara, he barely stops there before heading to Torremolinos. In the coastal city, he comes into contact with the burgeoning tourism industry, with a Spain beginning to open up to the outside world, but he finds himself embroiled in the murder of another woman. Meanwhile, he meets Laura, a woman with whom a different kind of relationship seems possible, almost a path to redemption, but his past and his true nature constantly haunt him.
The film revolves around a profoundly ambiguous protagonist who never quite manages to evoke empathy or charisma: he is a bland, cold, almost routine killer who murders without a clear motive and muses aloud on seemingly trivial matters. This combination of crime, banality, and internal reflection generates a sense of estrangement that has contributed to its being labeled a "cursed film" or a "rara avis" of Spanish cinema.
Technical details and cast of “Amador” (Regueiro)
Francisco Regueiro's film boasts a top-notch technical and artistic team for its time, which reinforces its status as a hidden gem within the Spanish filmography of the 60s.
Directed by Francisco Regueiro, a filmmaker from Valladolid with a highly personal style, far removed from the more conventional codes of the Spanish film industry at the time. He had already attracted attention with his feature film debut, "El buen amor" (The Good Love), which competed for the Palme d'Or at Cannes.
Screenplay: Writing the film was a true odyssey. Angelino Fons, Francisco Regueiro himself, Jacques Lagneau, and Manuel López Yubero all contributed. The script suffered constant pressure from Francoist censorship, which went so far as to block entire versions , forcing the director to rewrite it time and again. Regueiro explained that it wasn't a matter of cutting a single scene, but of prohibiting the entire film, which generated a dark legend surrounding the project and branded him as a "cursed" director.
Photography: Francisco Sempere delivers a meticulously crafted black and white image with stark contrasts that amplify the bleak atmosphere and the characters' despair. The somber aesthetic, devoid of any glamour, reinforces this sense of a closed and suffocating provincial life.
Music: The soundtrack, composed by Daniel White, provides a restrained accompaniment that perfectly complements the film's tone. The score subtly underscores the unease and fatalism that hang over the protagonist.
As for the cast, “Amador” relies on a group of very solid performers , some of them key figures in Spanish cinema of the time:
- Maurice ronet He embodies Amador, the businessman who murders his lovers. His performance is largely built upon an omnipresent voice-over in which the character ruminates on his thoughts: his desire to escape to another place, his fear of being discovered, his musings on whether Spanish women look good in bikinis… A mental chatter that, for some critics, becomes somewhat tiresome and weighs too heavily on the film's pacing.
- María Luisa Ponte She plays Aunt Aurora, a tiresome, chatty woman who is ever-present in the protagonist's life. Her ability to imbue the character with both comical and irritating nuances makes her one of the strongest elements of the cast.
- Amparo Soler Leal She brings to life Laura, Amador's love interest in Torremolinos. She is one of the most complex characters in the film: when she drinks, when she shows vulnerability, or when she seems genuinely interested in Amador, the actress manages to bring depth and humanity, suggesting that perhaps there is a way out for him.
- They complete the cast Elsa Zabala, José Mª Prada, Yelena Samarina and other secondary actors who populate this small, claustrophobic, and morally slippery universe.
Released in 1964, with a runtime of approximately 107 minutes , the film falls into the drama genre with touches of dark comedy and psychological thriller. Its black-and-white cinematography and uncompromising narrative have, over the years, made it a cult classic for lovers of more daring Spanish cinema.
Critical reception: a “rare bird” of Spanish cinema
Over time, Regueiro's "Amador" has gained prestige among film buffs and critics, who agree that it is a strange, extravagant, and highly personal work. Some analysts describe it as one of the "gems" of the so-called Spanish cursed cinema, that group of films that were uncomfortable for the industry, the censors, or the mainstream audience.
It has been compared on more than one occasion to Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho ." The comparison isn't literal or based on plot, but certain points of contact can be found: a killer with a seemingly normal life, a perverse relationship with a family member (in this case, a blood aunt), and the presence of a disturbed mind that defies rational explanation. However, some experts point out that, rather than Hitchcock, the film is closer in tone and approach to later works such as Jaime Rosales' "Las horas del día" (The Hours of the Day), where violence is also portrayed with coldness and starkness.
One of the most debated elements is the protagonist's voice-over narration. While it provides insight into his inner world and underscores the character's obsessive nature, some critics feel it becomes omnipresent and tiresome, as there is hardly any action beyond the crimes and his repetitive thoughts. The film hinges on this contrast between a plot in which "almost nothing happens" and a violence that erupts in a restrained, almost subdued manner.
The vision it offers of the human condition is profoundly hopeless . The protagonist kills without a clear purpose, without a utilitarian objective, almost out of habit. There is no easy moral or textbook exemplary punishment, but rather a portrait of evil and inner emptiness. This approach, unmoralizing and far removed from the official narrative of the time, explains some of the discomfort it generated at the time.
Overall, "Amador" functions like a highly precise machine , where the tone, the oppressive atmosphere, and the pitch-black humor fit together like pieces of a sinister puzzle. This is why some critics consider it a landmark film, even though it remains a niche work and rarely seen outside of cinephile circles.
“Amador” by Fernando León de Aranoa: plot and themes
Decades later, the name “Amador” returns to Spanish cinemas with a completely different film, directed by Fernando León de Aranoa. Here, the male protagonist is an elderly, bedridden man, and the dramatic weight falls on a young Peruvian immigrant who begins working as his caregiver.
Marcela, played by Magaly Solier , is married to Nelson, also Peruvian, who is involved in an illegal flower business in Spain. Their relationship is on the rocks: she's unsure about her marriage, suffers from profound loneliness, and is pregnant but afraid to tell her husband. She was pregnant before, and they both chose abortion, so this pregnancy carries a heavy emotional burden.
Amidst this situation, Marcela finds work caring for Amador, an elderly man confined to his bed while his family goes to the coast for the entire summer to build a small house. The agreement is clear: she will look after him, keep him company, feed him, and help him with his daily needs; in return, she will receive money she desperately needs to get out of her financial predicament.
As the days go by, an unexpected bond of complicity develops between Marcela and Amador . Despite the generational difference and their circumstances, they both share a heavy loneliness. Little by little, they learn to know each other, becoming more human in each other's presence, sharing things they might not dare to say to anyone else.
Just when things seem to be settling down, the unforeseen happens: Amador dies . Here the film takes a significant plot twist. Marcela, aware that she desperately needs the money promised by the family, decides to conceal the old man's death and pretend she's still caring for him. She remains there, maintaining appearances, as if nothing has happened.
From this point on, the plot shifts between drama, dark comedy, and a kind of moral fable . It's summer, it's hot, the days are getting longer, and the situation is becoming increasingly untenable: the smells, the visits, the phone calls, the nosy neighbors, a prostitute who used to see Amador, the parish priest… all these “pieces” keep coming and going, complicating the charade Marcela has created.
The film thus explores themes very characteristic of León de Aranoa: loneliness, economic insecurity, the difficulty of building a family , the fragility of immigrants, the lack of real affection within certain family units, and the need to find meaning in life amidst an unfavorable environment.
Puzzle metaphor and symbolic keys
One of the most striking elements of the film is the jigsaw puzzle that Amador is assembling over the course of several days. That image of the puzzle isn't simply a pastime for the old man: it acts as a central metaphor for the story.
The puzzle represents the attempt to piece together the fragments of life , to fit together moments, decisions, and consequences to achieve the most complete picture possible. Just like in a puzzle, some pieces fit together immediately, while others seem to repeat themselves, like those patches of sky that are indistinguishable from one another. Marcela and Amador, with their broken lives and frustrations, try to piece together something that resembles a coherent picture.
Translated into the script's structure, this metaphor works somewhat unevenly: some critics believe the narrative stagnates when Marcela's pretense is introduced. From then on, the plot seems to rely on a series of somewhat repetitive elements: the appearance of the "princess" (the mature prostitute who used to visit Amador), the conversations with the priest in church, the tension of the incessantly ringing telephones, the suspicious neighbors…
For some commentators, these sequences resemble the repeated pieces of the sky in a puzzle: they give the impression of moving within the same dramatic space without progressing much. However, others argue that this slow, slightly circular rhythm accurately reflects Marcela's sense of confinement and headlong flight, trapped in her own lie.
Fortunately, many agree that the film has a powerful ending , capable of balancing some of the narrative problems in the middle section. The conclusion introduces an unexpected dose of hope, almost a tonal shift, which reconfigures the overall interpretation of the film.
The evolution of Fernando León: from bitterness to surprising optimism
To understand the critical reception of “Amador”, it is helpful to look at the entire filmography of Fernando León de Aranoa . His fiction career began with “Familia” and “Barrio”, two titles that combined a strong social message with a peculiar humor and a very distinctive vitality, although already imbued with a certain melancholy.
Then came "Mondays in the Sun ," considered by many to be his masterpiece , featuring Javier Bardem in one of his finest performances, immersed in the world of unemployment and urban underdogs. The tone remained human and relatable, but more serious, more pessimistic. With "Princesses," centered on the lives of two prostitutes, the balance tipped even further toward a bitter outlook, and critics were divided: some saw intimate poetry; others, an excess of seriousness.
With all that baggage, “Amador” seemed poised to embark on an even darker path . The film's opening is harsh: sad characters, almost devoid of smiles, an atmosphere of emotional defeat. The director himself appears to revisit themes and patterns from his previous works: the immigrant caring for an elderly man brings distant echoes of “Familia”; the working-class apartments recall “Barrio”; precariousness and unemployment resonate with “Mondays in the Sun”; the relationship between women with very difficult lives connects with “Princesas.”
However, as Marcela and Amador spend hours together , the film gradually shifts away from its more purely social tone and enters almost uncharted territory within the director's oeuvre. Some critics have noted the influence of classic Spanish cinema from the 50s and 60s, with a Berlanga-esque feel in the combination of human drama and absurd or grotesque situations.
There comes a point when "Amador" takes a brighter turn than one might expect, a twist that some consider too abrupt or rushed, as if the story were being changed almost at the very end. This move breaks the uniform and pessimistic tone that seemed to define the film from the beginning, but it also frees the film from some constraints, making it less rigid and more liberating.
Hence, several analysts agree that, while not his most polished or innovative film, this is probably Fernando León's most optimistic work . And, according to some, it was something the director himself needed: to rediscover a more hopeful outlook, without abandoning his concern for social issues.
Cast and characters of “Amador” (León de Aranoa)
One of the great strengths of this contemporary version of "Amador" is its cast, headed by an actress who brings enormous authenticity.
- Magaly solier She plays Marcela, the young, pregnant Peruvian immigrant. Fresh from her success with "The Milk of Sorrow," she delivers a stunningly natural performance here. Her silences, her gaze, the character's persistent sadness—everything contributes to the audience's identification with her, even when she makes morally questionable decisions.
- Celso Bugallo He brings to life Amador, the bedridden old man. His casting is no accident: for many viewers, the actor is associated with Ramón Sampedro in "The Sea Inside," and here he again embodies an immobile, dependent man, yet one with a rich inner life. In his scenes with Marcela, Bugallo manages to maintain the character's dignity, imbuing him with tenderness without resorting to cheap sentimentality.
- Around them moves a set of very well-defined secondary characters: Amador's family, more concerned with their summer vacation and their little house on the coast than with the old man's daily life; Nelson, Marcela's husband, focused on the immediate business and without a shared family project; the mature prostitute, with whom Marcela maintains brilliant and humane dialogues; the priest with whom the protagonist exchanges reflections on death and morality; and several neighbors and characters from the neighborhood who complete this social landscape.
The film relies on highly literary dialogue , perhaps at times overly scripted, but also very carefully crafted. There are particularly insightful exchanges, especially between Marcela and the prostitute who visited Amador, which openly address themes such as family, love, poverty, motherhood, and faith.
All these characters, battered by life, form a human mosaic that is hard not to care about . Although the central story is implausible in strictly realistic terms—and critics have pointed this out—what's important here is not so much the plausibility of the plot as what it allows us to say about dignity, pain, and the search for meaning.
Thematic readings: loneliness, motherhood, immigration and faith
Beyond its narrative, León de Aranoa's "Amador" functions as a social X-ray of its time , albeit filtered through an almost macabre fable. Loneliness is the thread that runs through everything: the loneliness of the elderly forgotten by their families, the loneliness of the immigrant woman who doesn't feel understood by her partner, the loneliness of those who resort to substitutes for happiness to fill the void.
Motherhood is presented as an experience marked by fear and insecurity. Marcela lives her pregnancy in secret, without real support from her husband, without financial security, without a clear life plan. Her decision to hide Amador's death is directly linked to the fear of not being able to support her unborn child.
Immigration appears not so much as an isolated theme, but as a condition of vulnerability . The protagonist lives in a foreign country, with fewer support networks, more exposed to labor abuses and emotional loneliness. Her relationship with the prostitute, another woman who survives however she can, serves to show the sisterhood among those who live on the margins.
There is also room for reflection on death and religion . The conversations in church between Marcela and the priest don't offer definitive answers, but they do raise uncomfortable questions about dignity at the end of life, guilt, forgiveness, and the role of faith when things get really bad.
Ultimately, although the main plot is deliberately senseless and implausible - almost like a twisted moral tale - the film's value lies in everything that surrounds it : in how it portrays its characters, in the themes it raises, and in the honest, sometimes raw but always human, way in which it approaches them.
Taken together, the title “Amador” brings together two films that have little in common in plot and style, but share a profound interest in the less palatable side of humanity. Regueiro's film is a dark exercise in cult cinema, a tale of murder and moral emptiness filmed in black and white and permeated with pitch-black humor; León de Aranoa's is a contemporary fable that, from the depths of loneliness and emotional misery, dares to seek a glimmer of hope. Together, they construct a curious diptych about the desire to change one's life, the weight of guilt, and the need to piece together a puzzle of life that almost never turns out as expected.
