Joaquín Ferreira
Potro Romani

Former Club de Cuervos player Potro returns home to Argentina to crash the wedding of his famous soccer-star brother and confront his estranged family.
I’ll admit it: I wasn’t expecting much from I, Potro. A 50-minute comedy spin-off about a supporting character from a Mexican soccer dramedy? That’s the kind of thing that usually feels like a contractual obligation, not a creative gamble.
But here’s the thing—Joaquín Ferreira’s Potro Romani doesn’t just fill the screen; he expands it. In less time than it takes to watch an episode of The Office, this film turns a caricature into something strangely human. Or at least, human-adjacent.
Potro isn’t a character so much as a force of nature. He’s the kind of person who enters a room and immediately becomes the center of gravity, not because he’s the most important person there, but because he’s the most unignorable. Ferreira plays him like a man who’s spent his entire life auditioning for a reality show that doesn’t exist.
His posture is a performance—shoulders back, chin up, as if he’s constantly posing for an invisible camera. His voice is a weapon, all exaggerated vowels and dramatic pauses, like he’s narrating his own life in real time. And yet, for all the camp and caricature, there’s something vulnerable lurking beneath the surface.
Potro isn’t just a clown; he’s a man who’s built a persona so loud it drowns out whatever’s underneath.

The film’s premise is simple: Potro returns to Argentina for his famous soccer-star brother’s wedding, a homecoming that forces him to confront his estranged family. It’s a setup that could easily devolve into cliché—prodigal son returns, old wounds reopen, yada yada—but I, Potro sidesteps sentimentality in favor of something messier and more interesting. The wedding isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a pressure cooker.
Potro’s family doesn’t just tolerate him; they endure him. There’s a moment early on where his brother, played with weary exasperation by Martín Seefeld, greets him with a look that says, Oh God, you’re here. It’s a small beat, but it tells you everything you need to know about their dynamic. This isn’t a family that’s been waiting for Potro to come home.
It’s a family that’s been waiting for Potro to leave.
What makes I, Potro work—or at least, what makes it fascinating—is the way it balances its two competing impulses. On one hand, it’s a broad comedy, full of exaggerated physical humor and one-liners that land with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. On the other, it’s a character study of a man who’s spent his life performing, and the toll that performance takes.
I, Potro (2018) isn’t just a standalone comedy—it’s a bold experiment born from the success of Netflix’s Club de Cuervos. Directed by Marcos Bucay, the film zeroes in on Joaquín Ferreira’s breakout character, Potro Romani, a flamboyant, larger-than-life figure who stole scenes in the original series. But how did this 50-minute spin-off come to life, and what made it a must-watch for fans?
I, Potro emerged as a direct extension of Club de Cuervos, Netflix’s first Spanish-language original series. The show, a raucous comedy-drama about a dysfunctional Mexican soccer family, introduced Potro Romani as the team’s eccentric physical therapist. Ferreira’s portrayal—equal parts charismatic and chaotic—made the character a fan favorite, paving the way for his own project [5].
Unlike traditional spin-offs, I, Potro wasn’t a full season but a one-off film, clocking in at just 50 minutes. This brevity suggests a creative gamble: could a supporting character carry his own story in a condensed format? The answer, for many viewers, was a resounding yes. The film leans into Potro’s over-the-top personality, blending sports comedy with unapologetic camp [1].
Ferreira’s journey to I, Potro is as unconventional as the character himself. Before becoming a household name in Latin American comedy, Ferreira was a model and, notably, a former adult film actor. His pivot to mainstream acting came with Club de Cuervos, where his portrayal of Potro Romani became a standout role .
The spin-off gave Ferreira a chance to expand the character beyond the confines of the series. While the evidence doesn’t detail behind-the-scenes tensions or creative clashes, it’s clear Ferreira’s performance was central to the film’s appeal. His ability to balance humor with heart—even in a short runtime—helped I, Potro feel like a natural extension of the Club de Cuervos universe [1][5].
At just 50 minutes, I, Potro is more of a long-form sketch than a traditional movie. This runtime raises questions: Was it originally planned as a feature, or was it always intended to be a bite-sized spin-off? The evidence doesn’t clarify, but the film’s structure suggests a focus on delivering quick, high-energy laughs rather than a deep narrative [1].
The supporting cast—including Marcela Alvarez, Benjamín Alfonso, and Martín Seefeld—plays off Ferreira’s antics, but the spotlight remains firmly on Potro. The film’s genre, listed as comedy and sports, hints at a blend of soccer culture and absurd humor, though specifics about the plot or standout scenes aren’t detailed in the available snippets [1].
Despite its short runtime, I, Potro left an impression. It’s a rare example of a spin-off that doubles as a character study, giving fans more of what they loved while testing the limits of a supporting player’s appeal. Whether it was a one-off experiment or the start of something bigger remains unclear—Ferreira’s later projects, like Jackpotes (2021), suggest he moved on to new roles, but I, Potro remains a cult favorite for Club de Cuervos devotees .
For now, the film stands as a testament to the power of a single character to captivate audiences—and the risks of spinning them off into uncharted territory.
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