Wolfgang is, in truth, an extraordinary boy. He has Asperger syndrome, a sharp mind that puts him two grades ahead, and he plays the piano with a level of fluency that hints at a deep musical sensibility. His mother, herself a pianist, named him in honor of Mozart, a nod that echoes through every note he plays. Although the world can feel distant, his childhood beside his mother is warm and hopeful. After her passing and a brief stay with his grandmother, Wolfgang must move to his father, Carles, a man he has never met by his mother’s choice.
In the film, which quietly strives to blend drama with broad accessibility in Catalan, the story unfolds as a coming‑of‑age tale. It centers on the delicate dance of trust and growth between father and son, while Carles—unassuming and reserved—awakens to the challenge of fatherhood. He leads a life that appears orderly, yet the bond he forms with his son reveals layers he never expected. The narrative keeps its focus clear and compassionate as it follows their evolving understanding of one another.
Two supporting figures help frame Wolfgang’s world. One is the piano teacher, a professional who also acts as a psychologist, whose presence underscores how listening can unlock a young mind. The other is the very portrait of a patient, observant father who learns to read his child’s notes and silences with care. The film lets their interactions breathe, balancing the quiet ache of separation with the stubborn hope of connection. The Parisian scenes provide a luminous counterpoint, and the screenplay lands gentle jokes that poke at the inner workings of a particular Catalan cinema ecosystem. There are winkings to familiar names like Carlos Cuevas and J. A. Bayona, a nod to a film titled L’hospici, and a discreet, inmaterial cameo by Desirée de Fez that fans will appreciate.