The story has long captured attention and become the focus of dramatic study and media exploitation over the past six years. It centers on a burned body found in a car in the Foix swamp and follows a path that reveals a crime driven not by a grand plan of gang warfare, but by a partner’s possessiveness and a lover’s involvement. The case unfolds through the lens of both the accused and the investigators, creating a layered sense of mystery and uneasy admiration.
A fictional discovery unfolds within a city’s police code, a premise that fuels the Barcelona production company Arcadia as it partners with a streaming platform widely known for bold takes. Netflix became intrigued and agreed to stream the project. The platform handed creative control to screenwriter Laura Sarmiento and director Jorge Torregrossa, a team behind another intimate drama that examined the kinds of privacy violations and toxic masculinity now explored with a restrained, nuanced touch. Torregrossa notes that Netflix signaled confidence in their direction and warned against forcing the story into expectations. The result would allow the team to pursue essential themes without being drawn into superficial appeal.
From the opening episode, the audience understands clearly that this narrative is not a simple mystery about who did it. The story is real, and with a quick online search answers are readily available, which informs the tone rather than reducing tension. The creators describe their aim as crafting a psychological, subjective, emotional portrait that invites viewers into the characters’ minds and makes them feel what each person experiences.
Genealogy of some actions
The team initially faced a revealing but unclear question: what pushed Rosa Peral and Albert López toward their decisions, and why did they view their chosen path as the only possible solution? The writers emphasize that reports and news coverage leave a lingering ambiguity, challenging viewers to go beyond surface judgments. Rather than labeling the characters as simply insane or unresolved, the goal was to trace the lineage of their actions and understand the sequence that led to the final outcome. That analytic thread became the core appeal of the series for both audiences and creators.
So did the project succeed? For the historian’s perspective presented here, the fictional Peral and López emerge as enigmatic figures, perhaps not entirely comprehensible. Yet it is worth considering that many people might share a similar impulse to think there could have been another path. The director notes that Peral makes a relentless forward move, a choice that carries a very dark weight into the last episodes. The sense that a desperate decision was made, and that alternatives are now irrelevant, lingers as a haunting takeaway.
Úrsula Corberó embodies the Peral figure on screen, a choice that blends her Barcelona roots with a natural charisma that aligns with the character’s intensity. The director explains that the casting for López was a process, and Corberó’s appearance helped shape the dynamics of the ensemble. The screenwriter adds that López’s portrayal required a blend of physical presence and wry humor, elements Corberó brings to the role with striking effectiveness.
Mediterranean Scandinavian Noir
If the show were described in broad terms, it sits as a dramatic thriller with a unique twist: it deliberately invites a chilling aura rather than relying on blunt shocks. The climactic visuals in an early episode underscore a deliberate strategic approach to suspense rather than gratuitous sensationalism. The creators treat terrorism as a perception problem, testing how fear shapes understanding. They aimed for a journey that feels psychological and deeply personal, not merely procedural. The influence of renowned crime dramas from Northern Europe and the broader Mediterranean corridor shaped the storytelling, and the creative team acknowledged the impact of these styles on their work.
Cinematographer Ricardo Degracia, known for striking visuals in other projects, and composer Aitor Etxebarria contribute to a restrained, immersive atmosphere. When Torregrossa stepped in mid-production, the team did not abandon the initial vision. The approach relies on a deliberately calm visual grammar rather than flashy tricks, letting small choices—such as a reverse shot, a conversation shot at an unusual angle, or a subtle mid-scene shift—create tension. These carefully chosen, almost invisible tactics leave a lasting impression, fostering a sense of unease that lingers beyond each episode.
The result is a lingering residue of restlessness and melancholy that stays with viewers, a testament to how intent, craft, and restraint can produce a powerful impression without relying on sensationalism. The show aims to balance a somber mood with a clear through-line that respects the intelligence of its audience, inviting repeat viewing and thoughtful interpretation.