If throughout the two seasons it manages to be a story that uses police drama as an excuse to talk about abuse and domestic violence, the Season 3 develops the tragedy of the scars of trauma and the stigma that remains on the victims, even if the culprit is convicted. The introduction of Ryan as a character who is unaware of the drama and the danger that his father represents is a splendid way of reflecting on the external gaze of a society that can hardly understand the wounds that remain in the victims of abuse.
[NRK] While S1 feels like a more conventional youth heartbreak story, S2 is radically elevated to offer one of the best portraits of youth recently produced. It is missed to go deeper into the psychological problems of young people, but the characters are so close and real that it is easy to empathize with them, and the "rånere" car culture becomes a reflection of the spirit of community and friendship.
[tv+] One of the best retro-futuristic dystopian thrillers that has been made recently, which has so many influences but so perfectly combined that it never sounds like it has been seen before. It is even forgiven for what other series are not forgiven, for leaving us with more questions than answers, but the final episode is so masterfully executed (Ben Stiller has revealed as a great director) that it manages to seduce both our "innie" and our "outie".
[Prime Video] More political than usual, this series recovers the representation of modern society through the construction of a world of superheroes/antiheroes. And apart from offering some of the best episodes of the entire series, S3 proposes a reflection on what are the limits allowed to populism, the clay leaders who have a hidden agenda. It is as funny as it is thoughtful, as entertaining as it is brave.
[Movistar +] If in S1 the main theme was gentrification, S2 develops the characters more, which is one of its main virtues. The actors strike the right balance between somewhat silly humor and causticity. There are very funny episodes like "The Thomas Thorne affair" and "Bump in the night", and some of the events that led to the death of the ghosts are explored. It deserves to be one of those long-lasting BBC series.
Although from the third season Pamela Adlon took the reins of the series, in the fourth she takes that look at maturity from the female point of view further. It's less fun than when Louis C.K. participated in the scripts, but it has a much freer vision of this female universe that it builds. Personally, the plots involving teenage daughters are less interesting to me than those involving adult characters. And it is no coincidence that the best episode, "New Orleans", a wonderful almost magical tour of a city that still bears the wounds of devastation, is the one in which the daughters are absent.
There are also splendid moments like that meeting of women without men in "Father's Day", or those forays into the semi-documentary that address the sensations caused by the first period or the menopause to a series of interviewed women who hide their faces, in the upbeat final episode, "Listen to the roosters."
"Better things" is a different series from its first seasons, possibly it has less humor, but it benefits from a greater attention to detail, to the deep feeling of being a woman.
[Netflix] From the Irish gangster genre to the embrace of fascism and the birth of the IRA, there is an interesting political reconstruction of an era. But above all an epic of the dark, violent and arrogant hero, in an S6 that closes Tommy Shelby's descent into hell in a tone of operatic tragedy. With death hovering on and off screen, the final season becomes an elegy for atonement for sins through suffering.
[HBO Max] One of the most magnetic series in recent years, a reflection of the transformation of two friends at the same time that Italian society. Now it expands the gaze beyond Naples, addressing fascism and feminism, and this contradictory friendship, although Daniele Luchetti is not the right director for this complexity. But the ingredients are so solid that it is impossible to mess up the recipe.
Throughout three seasons, the show deals with the progressive loss of faith and the inability of the protagonist to commit in a real way, building a character that is completely lost. But at some point in S2, the creators realized that developing his environment was almost as important as the character itself, so from the second but especially in S3, the series benefits from a broader look than it also provides a question about life and religion in Ramy's own family. And so get some of the best episodes of the series to date.
[Viaplay] The S2 that ended unfinished, open to a S3 that was stopped due to the death of Ernst-Hugo Järegård, feels like an incomplete vision. With a tendency towards absurd comedy, it achieves an indelible iconography like all of Udo Kier's little brother and unforgettable sequences like Helmer and Krogshøj in the archive. With less horror and more dark comedy, it knows how to continue the achievements of S1.
[Viaplay] Lars von Trier's return to Rigshospitalet works better as a tribute to the previous two seasons than as a conclusion, partly due to the forced changes in the cast over time. With more immediate humor, it remains as irreverent as before, using a metalanguage in which the characters refer to "that silly von Trier," and offers another surreal foray into the supernatural that challenges social conventions.
[HBO Max] The series recovers a satirical look more focused on the world of politics through corruption, which causes much more obvious parallels with current politics. The tragicomic character of Juan Carrasco is reinforced, and above all he manages to capture that peculiar atmosphere of corruption that has been installed in Spanish society. There is a more cynical critique of criminality as a way of doing politics.
Possibly one of the series that has best reflected the contradictions of a divided Germany, wrapped in an intense espionage plot. "Deutschland 89" focuses on the fall of the wall, which, far from solving the political and economic problems, also made them worse in some way. "I like it when you sound capitalist," says a former member of a secret communist organization.
As chaotic as the era itself in the first episodes, when it finds the way of intersection between the main characters of the entire show, it builds a coherent and appropriate resolution, which culminates in a verification of a world that, far from the optimistic look that it caused the fall of the Berlin wall, has ended up building many more walls.
[Apple tv+] A mixture of psychological thriller and sentimental drama around three characters, the series builds a good narrative that plays with suspense, but also reflects on the process of creating a film and the director's progressive obsession with the limits between reality and fantasy of the script he is directing. There is risk in the proposal, which achieves a disturbing atmosphere, a concern that is constant.
After tackling themes such as memory and trauma, the season finale focuses on guilt and does so with the consistency it has had in four seasons. In some way, and especially since the S2, it uses investigations to develop Ambrose's psychological wounds, one of the most complex profiles that have been created in recent years. This season is headed for a kind of healing, but one that also contains doses of ambiguity.
The second season largely maintains the interest of the first, but knows how to expand the story to other limits that pose different plots. Some characters are more blurred, such as Lee Scoresby's, and it seems like a season of preparation, of placing the pieces for a more ambitious adventure that would foreseeably come with its third season.
[Netflix] The final season closes the circle of the defense of the family unit and the power that wealth grants, whatever the cost: "Most people have the wrong idea about money." Perhaps S4 is far below S2 and S3, and shows the usual frustration caused by a series sometimes too focused on moving forward that forgets to go deeper. And the ending can be a bit disappointing, but it comes full circle in a consistent way.
[Amazon] A visually dramatic story about the 11M, which, although it follows the official version of investigation without raising too many doubts, at least includes the different defenders of theories around to investigation, trial and authorship. A more distanced perspective is missing, a more critical view of a country that instead of uniting is divided by tragedies, and that makes the result less effective.
[Movistar+] It knows how to build tension with a measured structure and an interesting use of the cliffhanger, although some secondary plots feel forced. The claustrophobia of the investigation inside the submarine is cleverly alleviated with a parallel investigation on land, enhancing a narrative that throws out some political ideas without hindering its thriller status.
[Netflix] It is so simple and charming that it is difficult not to fall in love with its protagonists, but the main success is to finally create a story of teenagers for teenagers. And even the animation elements that connect it to its webcomic origins, which are admittedly cheesy, fit right into the context. A proposal that is so fresh, delicious and positive that even the bullies are charming (as stupid as they are).
[Disney+] To be part of the "American Horror Story" franchise, this season set in 1981 Lower Manhattan is an almost experimental approach to the AIDS pandemic through a look that doesn't avoid the less kind side of the night inside of the gay community, as opposed to the vibrancy of "Pose." Impregnated with seedy bars, cruising, dark rooms and sugar daddies, it is a provocative proposal that finds its balance in the numerous cinematographic references of the eighties, from "Cruising" (William Friedkin, 1980) to "Dressed or kill" (Brian De Palma, 1980), Derek Jarman, Robert Mapplethorpe, Andy Warhol, Gregg Araki... And it has two final episodes that turn confrontation with the inevitability of death into dark poetry once the murderous pandemic sets its sights on its victims.
[HBO Max] It must be recognized that the series manages to maintain that balance between pure youthful fantasy and the philosophical and theological reflections of Philip Pullman, who displays his atheism and the danger of religions in that representation of the angel who poses as the creator of the world. Splendid visual effects, magnificent music by Lorne Balfe and in general a tendency in the final season to underline the emotional connection between the characters (Lyra and her daemon, Lyra and Will...). The maturity of the Spanish actress Dafne Keen is noticeable, and the greater presence of Ruth Wilson and James McAvoy is appreciated in a coherent and particularly emotional ending.
[Filmin] The series addresses the difficulties of maintaining a degree of honesty in a hostile environment, as an indigenous activist takes on the responsibility of representing her community in Canberra's political bodies. But the intricacies of pacts, negotiations and betrayals show a white predominance that is not willing to give ground to indigenous claims. It correctly addresses this political labyrinth, and raises what is the real representation that the aborigines have in the bodies of power in Australia. There are also references to the current politics of the country, especially about the liberal government that has been in power for years, but always in coalition.
[Netflix] A series that shows a realistic youth, far from the artificiality, and that presents a love story with honesty. The breaking of the fourth wall in two moments is interesting, as a search for the viewer's complicity, without falling into the usual voice over. Faced with more conservative representations of youthful love, it has the freshness of characters that show their imperfections and their vileness.
[Rakuten Viki] Proposes a predictable romantic story but tender enough to be enjoyable. It favors the short duration of a story that could have been too repetitive, because it manages to build attractive characters with complex personalities.
[Netflix, S2] The new season benefits fewer episodes and less dispersion in the plots. Although it cannot avoid repeating some of the structures of the first season, it is an interesting Spanish "noir" that handles the look of the sixties well and builds an interesting main plot around a prostitute who becomes the leader of drug trafficking.
An enjoyable second season, although less than the first. The introduction of 'The Meadows' expands the plots but some of them are incomplete. In general, it gives the impression that the main character loses importance and the story focuses more on the UTRAX project than on her. A series that has evolved to make its protagonist, surprisingly, its greatest waste stone.
[HBO Max] It has the honesty of being a story in which Abril Zamora reflects about herself, and talks about transsexuality with the naturalness that many other series do not achieve. But there is also an excess of dialogue and too long scenes, which does not benefit its other values. Especially brilliant is the narrator who criticizes, insults and lectures the characters, an ironic parody of generational series.
[tv+] Constructed as a spy series that sometimes reminds us of "Topaz" (1969), S1 was an intelligent and tense proposal that managed to draw contradictory characters, both protagonists and antagonists. S2 is internationalised with the addition of Glenn Close, but fails to create a plot on the same level, falling into stereotyped characters and certain flawed decisions about the motivations of the characters.
It is possibly one of the riskiest proposals on racial concerns through a sense of humor that borders on the absurd and sometimes bets on surreal situations. But it seems too self-confident to turn in the long-awaited S3 into some kind of anthology series that falls into stereotypes (it doesn't use them to reinterpret them like previous seasons) and pretentious writing that only gets a few brilliant episodes.
