I went into Buen Camino expecting something reflective, maybe even quietly moving—the kind of film that understands why people walk long distances just to think. What I got instead was a film that definitely walks a lot, thinks occasionally, and then forgets what it was thinking halfway through. To be fair, the premise is solid. A group of strangers from different backgrounds converge on the Camino, each with their own reasons: grief, burnout, vague dissatisfaction with life, or, in one case, what seems like pure confusion about booking the wrong trip. This setup should be a goldmine for character-driven storytelling. And sometimes, when the film isn’t busy tripping over its own tone, it actually works.
The performances are easily the strongest part. The lead actor playing Luca does a lot with very little. His expressions carry weight even when the script refuses to. There’s a scene early on where he silently watches a sunrise, and for a brief moment, the film feels like it understands restraint. That moment alone almost convinced me I was about to watch something special.
Because right after that, we get a conversation so awkwardly written that it feels like the characters are reading self-help quotes off invisible cue cards. The dialogue swings wildly between sincere and unintentionally funny. Not funny in a clever way—funny in a “did someone actually approve this line?” way. At one point, a character delivers a speech about “finding your path” that goes on long enough for me to consider finding an exit.
Still, I have to give credit where it’s due: the cinematography is genuinely beautiful. The Spanish countryside is captured with care, and the film clearly knows how to frame a shot. Wide landscapes, quiet villages, long walking sequences—it all looks great. If you mute the movie and just watch the visuals, it becomes an excellent tourism ad. Unfortunately, the moment anyone starts talking again, we’re back to reality.
The pacing is another issue. For a film about a long journey, it somehow feels both rushed and painfully slow. Some emotional arcs develop at lightning speed—characters go from strangers to deeply bonded in what feels like two shared snacks and a mildly meaningful glance—while other moments drag endlessly. There’s a subplot involving a strained father-daughter relationship that appears, disappears, and then reappears like it forgot it was part of the movie.
And then there’s the humor. I’m convinced the film thinks it’s funnier than it is. There are attempts at lighthearted banter that land somewhere between awkward and confusing. That said, I found myself laughing quite a bit, but not always for the reasons intended. One character, in particular, seems to exist solely to deliver comic relief, yet ends up sounding like a motivational podcast that gained consciousness and decided to go hiking. But here’s the strange part: despite all of this, I wasn’t completely bored.
There’s something oddly watchable about Buen Camino. Maybe it’s the setting, maybe it’s the occasional sincerity that breaks through, or maybe it’s the sheer unpredictability of what the script will do next. At times, it stumbles into moments of genuine emotion. A quiet confession by the campfire, a shared silence between two characters who finally stop explaining themselves, these moments feel earned, even if everything around them doesn’t.
The direction is a mixed bag. When the film leans into subtlety, it works. When it tries to be profound, it trips over itself. There’s a noticeable lack of trust in the audience, as if the film feels the need to explain every emotional beat twice, just in case we missed it the first time. We didn’t. We got it. Please move on.
Character development is also inconsistent. Some characters evolve in believable ways, while others remain exactly the same, as if they signed a contract refusing growth. By the end, I wasn’t entirely sure what a few of them had actually learned, aside from how to walk long distances while having very intense conversations. And yet, I can’t say it’s a bad film. Frustrating? Yes. Uneven? Absolutely. But not without merit.
There’s a sincerity at its core that keeps it from collapsing entirely. It clearly wants to say something about connection, healing, and the value of slowing down. It just struggles to say it in a way that feels natural. Instead, it often opts for the cinematic equivalent of tapping you on the shoulder and saying, “Did you get that? That was important.”
Yes, I got it. You didn’t need to underline it three times.
By the time the film reached its conclusion, I found myself both relieved and slightly disappointed. Relieved because it was over, and disappointed because it had the potential to be much better. The final scenes aim for emotional payoff, and while they partially succeed, they also feel a bit too neat. After all the wandering, the ending ties things up in a way that feels less like resolution and more like the film deciding it’s tired and wants to go home. In the end, Buen Camino is like a long walk with someone who has interesting thoughts but insists on explaining them in the most roundabout way possible. You enjoy parts of the journey, you appreciate the scenery, but you also find yourself wishing they’d just get to the point.
Would I recommend it? Yes, but with the understanding that it’s not going to change your life. It might make you laugh, sometimes intentionally, often not. It might give you a few moments of quiet reflection. And it will definitely make you grateful for well-written dialogue in other films. So, if you’re in the mood for something visually pleasing, occasionally insightful, and consistently a little off, Buen Camino is worth the walk. Just don’t expect it to know exactly where it’s going.
Final Score- [5.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times