One of the pleasures of this year’s HSBC Spanish Film Festival 2025 has been witnessing Spain’s thriving regional film scene. Of course this was not always the case: there was a time, comfortably in the lifetime of many festival attendees, when films shot in regional Spanish language and culture were banned by the government. Festival centrepiece The 47 (reviewed here) tackles some of these Catalan historical events head-on, while The Bus of Life (reviewed here) was filmed in the Basque country.

Wolfgang, a decent family drama directed by Javier Ruiz Caldera, is largely set in Barcelona and performed in Catalan. Its titular character (played very effectively by Jordi Catalán) is a child prodigy and talented pianist forced to live with his father Carles (Miki Esparbé) upon the unexpected death of his mother. The film is adapted from Laia Aguilar’s book Wolfgang (extraordinari).

On the face of things there is a fair amount in Wolfgang to cause concern, or at least mild trepidation. The basic premise is a deeply familiar one, in which a troubled young child chafes against a new parent figure who lacks basic child-rearing skills, and it is likely most viewers will have seen it play out several times before. It is the whole ‘smart child dumb parent’ trope, one foreshadowed here by the deliberate contrast of each character’s lives: Wolfgang, named after Mozart, obsessed with classical music and ‘high’ culture, versus Carles, literally employed in a small role on a local soap opera. It is well-furrowed territory, with as much risk of seeming repetitive as gaining popular appeal.

Even more concern may be warranted by the fact that, as if often the case with this story trope, Wolfgang is autistic. Popular cinema does not have the best record in terms of representing people on the spectrum, and a quick look at Wolfgang will understandably set off a number of alarm bells. He is, predictably, a highly intelligent prodigy and piano-playing wunderkind. He displays poor social abilities and a tendency to be overwhelmed by stress and unfamiliar sounds. Jordi Catalán is not, as far as I can tell, on the spectrum himself – but then one does have to concede that a child character needs to be played by a child actor. Perhaps in this case casting a non-autistic performer is understandable. At any rate it all cumulates, these stereotypes, and I can honestly see a fair number of viewers turned off by just reading a synopsis.

It turns out Wolfgang is pretty good, all things considered, and while it is unlikely to win any plaudits for originality it does treat its subject matter with surprising sensitivity and intelligence. The premise lacks depth but the characters have it in spades. They transcend their rather limited set-up, and their behaviours ultimately push the film into some fairly interesting directions. For one thing the film is not about autism being a problem for Wolfgang or Carles. If anything the film is actually about childhood trauma, and how an adult fear of hurting a child can wind up causing the exact damage they are trying to avoid. It is a powerful subject matter, and the film does an excellent job of building it quietly in the background and then collapsing it all in the viewer’s face.

I have mentioned Jordi Catalán and Miki Esparbé already, and they are both excellent, but it is also worth noting Àngels Gonyalons as Wolfgang’s protective grandmother and Anna Castillo as Mia. The former is smartly positioned as an antagonist but not a villain, while the latter is Wolfgang’s piano teacher and psychologist – and it is genuinely rewarding to see his autism so well cared for and supported.

Regularly sweet and charming, well performed, and surprisingly developed, Wolfgang finds some remarkable dividends in deceptively ordinary inspirations. There is certainly sentimentality at work, but generally speaking the sentiment feels earned. It is, in the end, warm and comforting feel-good cinema – and there is always a place for that.