About three-quarters of the way through “Alcarràs,” the new film by Spanish director Cara Simón that opens January 6, we overhear a conversation that begins with a question: “So what did you do with your fricandó?” Whereupon the camera alights on three sisters, all in their dotage, who are in the midst of discussing the best way of making the Catalonian variant on beef stew.

One advocates adding tomatoes; the other votes against them, arguing that tomatoes make for a funny taste. Whereupon the third woman — perhaps the oldest sister — puts her foot down and states that no fricandó could be as delicious as “mum’s.” What was the secret of their mother’s recipe? Using a mortar-and-pestle, not an electric blender, to grind the ingredients. The old ways, it would appear, add flavor to food and, by implication, to life.

In this delightful scene — it can’t last more than a minute — Ms. Simón has, for all intents and purposes, set out the moral and generational parameters of “Alcarràs.” The world goes marching on and some of its inhabitants are dead set against it doing so. Therein lies the friction between innovation and tradition, a dynamic that is, of course, forever current and as old as the hills. In Ms. Simón’s case, the hills belong to the title municipality, a rural outpost of southern Catalonia in which her family works as farmers.

Operates but not owns, which is, at least for the Solé family at the center of “Alcarràs,” a crucial sticking point. In a manner similar to “Dos Estaciones,” the film by Juan Pablo González released earlier this fall, Ms. Simón’s picture takes off from biographical particulars. Her family does, in fact, own a peach orchard in “a tiny village in deepest Catalonia,” one in which the director “learned to appreciate the trees they cultivate as something that could someday be destroyed.”

The encompassing orchard in which the Solés ply their trade falls victim to a gentleman’s agreement the elder Solé, Rogalio (Josep Abad), struck with the Pinyols, the owners of the land. The terms are never quite explained — Ms. Simón is not big on particulars — but we intimate that the Pinyols owe their lives to a decision Rogalio made during the Spanish Civil War. 

The current head of the Pinyol family, played by Jacob Diarte, acknowledges the debt, but, you know, there’s no paperwork testifying to the transaction and things change. Solar panels are the future; family farms, a thing of the past. Get over it.

The story of “Alcarràs” isn’t much of anything new. From David and Goliath to “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” to the recent “The Rose Maker,” there’s no plot device that engenders sympathy for its players as quickly as sticking-it-to-the-man or getting-stuck-by-the-man. That the tale set out in “Alcarràs” is something of a given allows Ms. Solés the opportunity to concentrate on facets of life that may not immediately be apparent: the rewards of hard work, the expertise that comes with longevity, and, especially, the complexity inherent in family. 

Good luck keeping a tab on the Solés. Ms. Simón doesn’t bother with introductions, preferring, instead, to throw us in the fricandó until we get our bearings. Before long, we ferret out the main players: bull-headed patriarch Quiment (Jordi Pujol Dolcet), his teenage children Roger and Mariona (respectively, Albert Bosch and Xènia Roset), and his long-suffering wife Dolors (Berta Pipó). A melange of sisters, nephews, and nieces figures into the mix, as well as brother-in-law Cisco (Carles Cabós), who has, along with his nephew, surreptitiously planted a marijuana garden within the more tangled precincts of the orchard.

There’s really no plot to speak of. Events unfold, that’s it — and if Ms. Simón can be faulted for a film that lacks momentum, it has to be stated that there isn’t an extraneous scene to be had here. Each and every moment expands upon a specific set of characters and situations, evincing a director who has a deft way with actors. 

Did I say “deft”? Make that “great”: With not a professional thespian to be found in the bunch, each cast member turns in a performance notable for its grit and fortitude. It’s these non-actors who help make “Alcarràs” shine. Who needs movie stars when Ms. Simón is at the helm?