Which Adaptation of La piel del tambor Works?
The 2022 film adaptation of Arturo Pérez-Reverte’s “La piel del tambor” is the more accessible and viable option, despite mixed critical reception. While neither the 2007 TV series “Quart” nor the 2022 film fully captured the novel’s essence, the recent theatrical release offers better production values, international reach, and streaming availability on Amazon Prime Video.
Two Attempts at Adaptation
Pérez-Reverte’s 1995 novel has been adapted twice for the screen, each with distinct approaches and outcomes.
The television series “Quart, el hombre de Roma” premiered on Antena 3 in September 2007. Starring Roberto Enríquez as Father Quart and Ana Álvarez as Macarena, this six-episode series attempted to expand the novel’s intrigue into episodic format. The author himself supervised the scripts, ensuring the story maintained its core elements while allowing creative freedom for the directors.
The series started promisingly with 2.44 million viewers and a 15.2% audience share. However, ratings plummeted rapidly—by the fourth episode, viewership had dropped to 914,000. Antena 3 moved the show to a late-night Monday slot, where it concluded with just 326,000 viewers. The series averaged 911,000 viewers across its run, leading to cancellation after a single season.
Fifteen years later, director Sergio Dow helmed a cinematic adaptation. Released in October 2022, this Spain-Colombia-Italy co-production featured British actor Richard Armitage as Father Quart alongside Spanish actress Amaia Salamanca. With a budget of €7.5 million and participation from Amazon Prime Video and RTVE, the film represented a more ambitious international approach.
Critical and Commercial Performance
The 2022 film received polarized reviews. On Rotten Tomatoes, it holds a 13% critics’ score with an average rating of 3.6/10. IMDb users rated it 5.2/10, while FilmAffinity users gave it 4.3/10. Critics pointed to several issues: the controversial decision to film entirely in English created awkward performances from Spanish actors playing Spanish characters, the pacing felt uneven, and character development remained superficial.
Spanish film critic website Espinof called it “the worst film adaptation” of a Pérez-Reverte novel, citing tonal inconsistencies and reliance on exposition-heavy dialogue. The review noted that the film felt anachronistic, as if made for 1990s television rather than modern cinema.
Yet some viewers found merit in the production. User reviews praised the atmospheric cinematography showcasing Seville’s architecture, particularly the Plaza de España sequences. The mystery element maintained tension for audiences willing to overlook the film’s shortcomings. Several reviewers appreciated the international cast’s efforts, particularly Paul Guilfoyle and Fionnula Flanagan in supporting roles.
The box office told a sobering story. Despite releasing on 153 screens and earning approximately €150,000 in its opening weekend, the film grossed only $542,000 total—a fraction of its production budget.
Comparing the Adaptations
The TV series enjoyed advantages the film lacked. Its episodic structure allowed deeper exploration of Vatican politics and Sevillian intrigue. Pérez-Reverte’s direct involvement ensured thematic fidelity. Fans who appreciated the series praised its adherence to the novel’s atmosphere and Roberto Enríquez’s portrayal of the conflicted priest.
However, the series suffered from budget limitations evident in its production values. Shot on 16mm film across real locations in Madrid, Guadalajara, Toledo, and Santiago de Compostela, it lacked the visual polish modern audiences expect. The weekly format also struggled to maintain momentum, contributing to audience attrition.
The 2022 film benefited from superior cinematography by Aitor Mantxola and a score by renowned composer Roque Baños. The international cast brought different energy, even if the English-language requirement created complications. Production design captured Vatican grandeur and Baroque church aesthetics effectively.
The film’s condensed runtime forced narrative compression that both helped and hindered it. At 116 minutes, it moved briskly but sacrificed character depth and subplot development that made the novel compelling. Critics noted that Father Quart became a generic action-priest rather than the nuanced intellectual from Pérez-Reverte’s pages.
Author’s Perspective
Pérez-Reverte’s comments reveal diplomatic ambivalence. At the film’s Seville premiere, he praised Richard Armitage’s performance and called the movie “an extraordinary promotional spot for Seville.” He acknowledged the adaptation diverged from his vision, stating paradoxically: “It’s not my novel, but it is my novel.”
This measured response contrasts with his active involvement in the 2007 series, suggesting the author learned to accept adaptations as independent works. He noted that not all novels translate easily to screen—a lesson reinforced by mixed results from previous adaptations of his work, including “Alatriste” and “La carta esférica.”
Streaming Accessibility
A practical consideration favors the film: availability. The 2022 adaptation streams on Amazon Prime Video and can be rented on Apple TV, Google Play, and other platforms. Physical media includes DVD and Blu-ray releases.
The 2007 series proves harder to access. While DVD box sets exist, they’re out of print and increasingly rare. No major streaming service currently offers the series, limiting its reach to those who purchased the physical release or can find it through secondary markets.
Which Works Better?
Neither adaptation fully succeeds in translating Pérez-Reverte’s intricate mystery to screen. The novel’s strength lies in its layered conspiracy, theological debates, and atmospheric prose—elements that resist compression into visual media.
The 2007 series came closer to capturing the book’s complexity but faltered in execution and audience retention. Its cancellation meant storylines remained unresolved, leaving viewers without closure.
The 2022 film, while flawed, offers a complete if simplified narrative. Its failures stem from trying to serve too many masters: maintaining the source material’s Spanish setting while pursuing international appeal through English dialogue, balancing thriller pacing with character-driven drama, and compressing a dense novel into standard feature length.
For viewers curious about Pérez-Reverte’s Vatican intrigue, the film represents the practical choice. It’s professionally produced, reasonably entertaining despite its flaws, and easily accessible. The Seville cinematography alone justifies a viewing for fans of location photography.
Those seeking deeper fidelity to the novel might hunt for the series, though managing expectations is wise. Its low budget and unfinished nature limit satisfaction.
The Adaptation Challenge
Both versions illustrate why “La piel del tambor” resists adaptation. The novel operates on intellectual and atmospheric levels that don’t translate directly to visual storytelling. Quart’s internal conflicts, the theological debates, and the slow-burn mystery work on the page but become exposition-heavy on screen.
Additionally, the book’s 1990s setting—with its hacker subplot and pre-smartphone Vatican intrigue—feels dated when filmed decades later. The 2022 film kept the 1995 time period, creating a period piece that audiences might not recognize as such, adding confusion.
Successful thriller adaptations like “The Da Vinci Code” or “Angels & Demons” benefited from straightforward plot mechanics and clear visual setpieces. “La piel del tambor” demands more patience, rewarding close attention to dialogue and character relationships over action sequences. Neither adaptation found the right balance.
The choice between adaptations ultimately depends on priorities. Want convenience and production polish? Choose the 2022 film. Prefer slower pacing with more faithful character work? Seek out the 2007 series if possible. Or better yet, read Pérez-Reverte’s novel to experience the story as intended—a richly detailed mystery that highlights why some books resist translation to screen, no matter how many times filmmakers try.