That laugh. You know the one. It sounds like a car engine trying to start in the middle of a Siberian winter, or maybe a machine gun firing blanks. When we first meet Daniel Ramos—better known by his city alias Denver in La Casa de Papel—he seems like the textbook definition of a liability. He’s hot-headed. He’s impulsive. He’s basically a walking disaster zone with a leather jacket and a short fuse.
But if you actually sit through all five parts of the heist, you realize he isn’t just comic relief or the "brawn" of the operation. He’s the moral compass. Sorta.
It’s weird to call a literal bank robber a moral compass, right? But honestly, in a room full of cold-blooded ego-maniacs like Berlin or clinical masterminds like the Professor, Denver is the only one who consistently reacts like a real human being. He feels things too loudly. He messes up because he cares too much, not because he’s stupid. Most fans miss that because they're too busy laughing at his bickering with Moscow or his messy romance with Stockholm.
The Denver we see vs. the Denver we get
Most people think Denver is just a common thug. He starts the series as a guy who’s deep in debt and has basically no future outside of getting into bar fights. His dad, Moscow, brings him into the Royal Mint heist specifically to save him from himself.
But look at the Mónica Gaztambide situation. This is where Denver in La Casa de Papel actually becomes a three-dimensional character. Berlin gives him a direct order to kill a hostage. In the world of high-stakes crime, you follow orders or you die. Instead, Denver fakes her death, shoots her in the leg to make it look real, and hides her in a vault.
It’s messy. It’s technically a war crime. But it’s also the first time we see that Denver has a line he won't cross. He’s a criminal, sure, but he’s not a murderer. That distinction is basically the foundation of his entire character arc. He spends the rest of the series trying to reconcile his "tough guy" persona with the fact that he’s actually a big softie who just wants a family.
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Why that laugh matters (No, seriously)
Jaime Lorente, the actor who plays Denver, didn’t just stumble into that iconic cackle. He actually developed it during the casting process. He wanted something that felt uncomfortable and jarring.
The laugh is a mask. You’ll notice Denver laughs the hardest when he’s nervous or when things are falling apart. It’s a defense mechanism for a guy who wasn't given the tools to express complex emotions. When he’s fighting with Mónica (later Stockholm) in the Bank of Spain, the laugh disappears. He becomes grounded, angry, and genuinely scared of losing the life they built together.
The Moscow dynamic
You can't talk about Denver without talking about Moscow. Paco Tous and Jaime Lorente had this chemistry that felt incredibly authentic. It’s that classic "son trying to live up to a father who wants better for him" trope, but with way more gunpowder.
Moscow’s death in Part 2 is arguably the most pivotal moment for Denver’s development. It stripped away his safety net. Without his dad to check his impulses, Denver had to grow up instantly. He went from being "the kid" of the gang to being a father himself.
The Stockholm Syndrome debate
Let’s be real for a second. The relationship between Denver and Mónica is problematic. People on the internet have been arguing about this for years. Is it actually love, or is it just the psychological result of being trapped in a basement together while people are getting shot?
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The show leans into this. It doesn't ignore the weirdness. By the time they get to the second heist at the Bank of Spain, the "honeymoon" phase of their criminal life is over. They’re dealing with PTSD. Stockholm is seeing visions of the man she shot, and Denver is reacting the only way he knows how: by being overprotective and, frankly, a bit of a jerk.
He wants her to stay safe. He wants her to be the mother of their child, Cincinnati, while he does the "dirty work." It’s a very traditional, almost outdated mindset that causes a massive rift between them. It shows that Denver in La Casa de Papel isn't a perfect hero. He’s flawed, slightly sexist at times, and incredibly stubborn. But that’s why he feels real. He’s a product of his upbringing.
The Bank of Spain: A different kind of pressure
In the later seasons, Denver’s role changes. He’s no longer just the guy who handles the drills. He becomes a pivot point for the group's morale.
Think about his interactions with Manila. Introducing a childhood friend who’s also a trans woman added a whole new layer to Denver’s backstory. It showed a side of him that was accepting and loyal, long before he ever stepped foot in the Royal Mint. Their tension in Part 5 highlighted Denver’s internal conflict—he was caught between the nostalgia of his past and the complicated reality of his present.
He’s also one of the few characters who keeps his head when the Professor loses his. While Tokyo is narrating and the Professor is playing chess with the police, Denver is on the ground, literally bleeding for the cause.
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The physical toll of being Denver
Jaime Lorente’s performance is incredibly physical. He’s always moving. Always twitching. He’s like a spring that’s been coiled too tight.
If you watch the behind-the-scenes documentary Money Heist: The Phenomenon, you see how much energy goes into those scenes. The fight sequences in the Bank of Spain were grueling. Denver takes a beating—physically and emotionally—more than almost any other character. By the end, he looks ten years older than he did in the first episode.
Key moments that defined him:
- The Scissors Scene: When he stands up to Berlin early on. It established that the hierarchy was fragile.
- The "Death" of Mónica: His choice to disobey orders saved the gang's soul, even if they didn't know it yet.
- Moscow's Last Words: The moment Daniel Ramos died and Denver the revolutionary was born.
- The Vault Dance: Showing that even in a heist, he finds a way to bring a weird, chaotic joy to the room.
What we can learn from Daniel Ramos
Denver is a lesson in growth. He started as a statistic—another kid from the streets with no prospects—and ended as a key player in the greatest heist in history. But he never lost his "neighborhood" roots. He stayed fiercely loyal to the people he loved, even when it made no tactical sense.
In a show filled with geniuses, Denver proved that sometimes, being the person who feels the most is more important than being the person who thinks the most. He was the heart of the show. A loud, laughing, slightly broken heart.
Actionable insights for fans and creators
If you’re looking to dive deeper into the world of Denver in La Casa de Papel or characters like him, here are a few ways to engage with the lore and the craft:
- Watch the spin-off content: Don't just stop at the main series. Money Heist: Korea – Joint Economic Area features a different take on Denver (played by Kim Ji-hun) that keeps the hot-headed nature but adapts it to a Korean social context. It’s a great study in how "archetypes" translate across cultures.
- Study the "Unreliable Narrator" trope: Since Tokyo narrates the series, her view of Denver is skewed by her own friendship with him. Rewatch the first season and look for moments where Denver’s actions contradict how Tokyo describes him.
- Analyze the character through "Emotional Intelligence": If you're a writer, Denver is a masterclass in writing a character with low academic intelligence but high emotional intuition. He reads people's vibes better than the Professor does, which is why he's often the first to spot a betrayal or a breakdown.
- Explore the "Redemption Arc" limitations: Observe how the show handles the fact that Denver is still a criminal. It asks the question: Can you be a "good person" while doing "bad things"? The answer is never a simple yes or no, which is exactly what makes the writing so strong.