He always dreamed of telling stories, ever since he was a child, when cinema, comics, and – a little later – music began to trap him like tentacles one would wish would never let go. Hugo Pratt, fantastic cinema and pop with a wide palette of colors. “The thing is, I wasn’t very clear on how to channel all those loves.” Leaning against the bar, vermouth in hand and letting himself be swayed by the elegant rhythm of Henry Mancini’s Lujon, Dimas Rodríguez observes the midday scene at the Bar with a wide smile.
Curiously, and despite his devotion to the seventh art, instead of Cinema, he studied Audiovisual Communication “because I thought it had more opportunities, and that largely determined my professional and personal future.” In fact, after a brief period collaborating with cultural media such as Butxaca or Rock de Lux, he quickly joined TV3 where he has continuously worked on fiction content such as Ànima, 33 Revolucions, Com si fos ahir or, currently, Nervi. In parallel, he has directed numerous short films (Tenemos que hablar, Todavía no conozco tu letra…), music videos (Sanjosex, Illa Carolina…) and a TV movie, Et dec una nit de divendres, starring Aina Clotet.
“Who would have told my pre-adolescent self, who compulsively watched movies and read film reviews, that one day I would direct actors like Aina, like Bruna Cusí, Oriol Vila or Jordi Andújar?” asks the regular, who always tries to make music and culture appear in his stories in their physical forms, live, or in settings like bookstores or record stores, perhaps asserting that culture is not something consumed like a Coca-Cola, but rather lived, generating bonds and touching souls. And there he is, preparing his next short film project, while finalizing the documentary about the Barcelona band Brighton 64 which is expected to premiere in 2027.
Flying solo, sometimes
Cinema and television formats have not been the only sublimation of those desires of the child and adolescent self. Dimas Rodríguez has managed to express his inner world through other disciplines, such as music. “My first group was Banda Municipal del Polo Norte and, when they stopped, I formed Invisible Harvey.” At the helm of this project, the also guitarist and composer debuted, in 2016, with the album La puerta giratoria, followed by two more (No es justo que llegues ahora and Titulador de canciones). “Precisely now we are recording the songs for the next album, which, if all goes well, will see the light in April.”
Although it is a septet, sometimes Dimas performs the band's repertoire solo: him and an acoustic guitar before the audience. A way of working he has become fond of, alone, without depending on other musicians and production teams and cameras and lights and actors. The man alone with his art, with all its possible elevation and its errors.
“I think that's why I decided to write the novel, because it's a solo journey that I really enjoyed doing,” he explains about Ayer estuve en Lenina (Sílex), a costumbrista altarpiece of his beloved Gràcia neighborhood, interwoven with a lyrical pulse and musical, cinematographic, comic, and literary allusions to the corners and moments of a neighborhood lived as a home where emotions are cooked in various sauces. “Among other projects, I am also writing a continuation, again starring Nico, the ex-musician and owner of the fictional record store Lenina,” he announces.
Incorruptible Corners
“Despite rising prices and the disappearance of lifelong businesses without a replacement or any alternative local proposal, Barcelona still has many corners that preserve their essence,” proclaims the filmmaker and musician, a compulsive frequenter of music bars like Barbara Ann, Psycho or Heliogàbal and nostalgic for those transcendent haunts that are no longer there, “like the Badlands, which was on Praga street, and at whose door I still get emotional when I pass by.”
For all this, he determines, his relationship with Barcelona is “passionate and romantic, I miss it a lot when I go away and I like to walk it all, even beyond Gràcia, which is my neighborhood.”
– Something you will miss from the moment you leave is this Bar. Lunchtime is approaching and perhaps you can be tempted with a menu, some tapas or some portions…
Something shines in Dimas Rodríguez’s eyes. In the background, the notes of Can’t hardly wait by The Replacements resonate among the voices and noises of a kitchen already in operation.
“I would really fancy a tapa of torreznos,” he announces. And, after a few seconds, he adds: “and if you have tiramisu for dessert, save me a piece.” There are things that are not forgiven.