A dictator and general who ruled for 36 years, Francisco Franco, controlled nearly every outlet of expression in Spain during the first half of the 20th century. But the country’s cinematic industry, in particular, produced art that sometimes defied those boundaries and reflected the prevailing mood of the directors and actors, and, indeed, the public that consumed them. Movies offered audiences an emotional escape from the harsh reality of dictatorial rule, yet after Franco’s death, those audiences were keen to move on, forgetting the films made during the brutal regime and embracing new ideas and expressions. The Museum of Modern Art takes an appreciative look back at 20 films made during the reign of Franco in the film exhibit “Spain (Un)Censored.” In this throwback spirit, Dinner and a Movie takes a look at three Spanish restaurants that — unlike their trendy counterparts, such as Mercat, Tia Pol, and Boqueria — have also withstood the test of time. These eateries have remained favorites with New York foodies for years, and will likely continue to do so.

DINNER

The Spanish Benevolent Society of New York is home to tough-looking expatriates who sip from stout glasses of wine or coffee, and watch satellite-beamed soccer from the main lounge area near the entrance of the premises. But just down a short hallway is La Nacional, an adjoining tapas restaurant that specializes in sizzling platters of paella. The paella de la casa comes, as expected, with huge rings of squid, clams, and chorizo, floating in a delicate, thin broth flavored with chorizo oil and saffron. The bottom of the paella’s cast-iron pan is blanketed with a layer of browned rice, a crispy reward for diners who make it to the end of the dish. The restaurant, by the way, serves up the best paella vegetariana in the city, proving that fresh vegetables (and a bigger pinch of saffron) can carry an otherwise meat-driven dish. There are, of course, tapas to be had as well. The gambas al plancha (fried shrimp) are deliciously oily and redolent of fresh garlic, and the albondigas (tiny meatballs) come in a slim bowl, simmering away in a tomato sauce. La Nacional serves up pitchers of sangria made with cava, or Spanish white sparkling wine — ensuring patrons don’t walk away with a wine-induced headache after drinking this effervescent beverage. (239 W. 14th St., between Seventh and Eighth avenues, 212-243-9308)

Esperanto is an East Village mainstay for Brazilian mojitos, caipirinhas, feijoada, and adobo-spiced pollo. But the eatery also serves a Spanish tapas appetizer plate, which is good for residents of Alphabet City who prefer to skip the jaunt to one of the western or northern tapas joints in the area. The plate arrives with marinated olives, snappy and spicy chorizo sausage, ceviche, and a slice of torta española, known as the traditional tortilla, or potato-and-egg omelet. The torta española, is prepared more like a fritatta, either baked or fried on a stovetop, and contains layers of thinly sliced potatoes, creating a gratinesque texture. Although the dish is plainly Spanish, the food really does go well with a minty mojito. (145 Ave. C at 9th Street, 212-505-6559)

Galicia is a region in northwest Spain, named for the Callaeci, a Celtic tribe that first populated the land. The Celts, the Romans, the Moors, and, finally, Ferdinand I of Spain dominated the area in its early history. Today, the region and its communities are considered autonomous, and are influenced by nearby Portugal. Xunta (pronounced “CHUN-tah”), an under-the-sidewalk restaurant near Union Square, prepares tapas — a cuisine that has its origins in Madrid and Barcelona in the east — with Galician flourishes. The restaurant dishes out perhaps the widest variety of chorizo to be found on a tapas menu in New York, including chourizo a plancha (grilled chorizo), chourizo pequeño picante a plancha (grilled small spicy sausage), and chourizo seco picante (dry spicy sausage). Xunta also offers six cheese dishes, an insanely garlicky dish of potatoes in aioli, grilled dates with bacon, and lulas na sua tinta, slices of squid cooked in its own wine (a word of advice: drink plenty of white sangria to wash the residue from your teeth). At the bar, three flamenco dancers take center stage on Thursday evenings. (174 First Ave., between 10th and 11th streets, 212-614-0620)

MOVIE

Basilio Martín Patino’s “Nueve Cartas a Berta” (“Nine Letters to Bertha”) (1965) tells the story of Lorenzo, a student in 1950s fascist Spain, who returns from an English holiday with the desire to leave his traditional family and seek a life outside of his environment. He begins sharing his dreams with Bertha, the daughter of an exile. “Nueve Cartas” is considered among the first films that depicted Franco’s leadership as regressive, and showed a need for a journey toward modernity. Other offerings in the “Spain (Un)Censored” series include Miguel Picazo’s “La Tía Tula” (“Aunt Tula”) (1964), which screens on Saturday at 2 p.m. The film follows a bank employee who finds himself falling for his sister-in-law, when he calls on her to care for his children after his wife’s death. (Friday, 6 p.m., MoMA, 11 W. 53rd St., between Fifth and Sixth avenues, 212-703-9400, $20 general, $16 seniors, $12 students, free for children and members.)