Cardo 2: between hell and Saint Teresa de Jesus
There was already rich religious symbolism in the first season of Cardo, and in the second season the core motivation for María centers on Saint Teresa of Jesús. The opening lines of each new episode draw on sacred text, shaping a tone that threads through the six fresh chapters. How did this reference come into play?
Claudia Costafreda explains that Saint Teresa joined the project during the development of the second season, introduced by another screenwriter, Lluís Sellarès. This anchor gives María something tangible to grasp onto as she searches for a path back to light. It isn’t a deep scholarly devotion, not a claimed expert stance on Santa Teresa, but rather a mechanism to seek salvation. The symbolism serves as a bridge to the new relationship María builds with her prison partner, and it broadens the universe of religious imagery already present from the first season. The filmmakers shift the spotlight from mockery and the Virgin to a Saint who offers a different kind of focus, Teresa.
In the new episodes, some flashbacks from María’s prison years surface, yet the drama unfolds as she steps out of jail. The creative team chose to center on that moment of release rather than delving into the confinement itself.
María begins the season with a sense of aimlessness, but a clear mission later takes shape: to help a friend who remains imprisoned reconnect with her daughter. Claudia Costafreda notes that this mission provides the season with its driving engine. An accident in the previous season laid groundwork, but this season needed a unifying objective to steer every episode forward.
María repeats the creed, “I’m great,” in the opening episodes. Yet the more she repeats it, the more it reveals its hollowness. Ana Rujas observes that this repetition mirrors real life: people often claim strength even when confidence is frail. The shift in this season is that María must summon true resolve to improve, repeating the mantra until genuine progress follows, even when improvement is imperfect.
Costafreda emphasizes that María seeks to demonstrate resilience and adaptability to the world, resisting judgment with a stubborn insistence that she can belong again. The story features a cast of characters who react differently: old friends who pity her without full integration, and others who, aware of her prison past, respond with a mix of disdain and distance. This nuanced dynamic adds realism and, for the audience, a raw, almost uncomfortable honesty. The evolving circle of relationships highlights the tension between forgiveness and social estrangement, creating a landscape that feels truly lived-in.
Why does this season feel wilder than the first, which already pushed boundaries with explicit scenes? Ana Rujas suggests that María’s distance from reality has grown, pushing the narrative into a more untamed space. The sense of danger and instability becomes a signature element, heightening the emotional stakes as the story unfolds.
Despite attempts to relocate herself, María faces society’s gaze as a former convict. The cast is clear on who bears the initial judgment, but the series also invites viewers to observe how others interpret her past. The conversation turns to empathy, but also to a lingering, often implicit bias that shadows those who leave prison. The dialogue between leads and supporting characters captures this tension with tenderness and palpable tension.
The show crafts a diverse chorus of reactions. Friends who pity María but remain partially disengaged, society members who do not realize she has served time, and others who approach with a mix of skepticism and pity. This spectrum offers a frank portrait of the social hurdles faced by someone reentering life after incarceration. The result is a provocative, sometimes unsettling examination of judgment, reintegration, and the human desire for dignity.
Endings and new chapters
The creators hint that the narrative may reach its final act in this installment. If Cardo concludes its run, the duo behind the project signals that they may continue collaborating in different forms, keeping alive the energy that defined María’s journey. The door isn’t slammed shut; it’s left ajar for future collaborations, ensuring the team’s ongoing exploration of complex, redemptive stories. This approach preserves the series’ core tension while allowing room for new creative directions, should the creators choose to pursue them.
María’s arc now hinges on a shift from seeking thrills to negotiating a more tempered, conscientious path. She moves from a life of excess to a purposeful attempt at reintegration, a transition that requires courage, vulnerability, and a readiness to confront the consequences of her past actions. The storytelling emphasizes the humanity of a person who has stumbled, learned, and chosen to fight for a better future.
[Attribution: interviews with the series’ creators provide these insights into character development and thematic evolution for Cardo 2.]