Berlin review: A misplaced foray into happenstance with dubious themes and misogyny

Berlin on Netflix: A prequel to the critically acclaimed Money Heist, joined the longstanding history of spin-offs that should never have been released. Berlin debuted on the platform on Friday night. Pedro Alonso plays the mysterious Berlin with a certain amount of polish in this 10-episode series that attempts to dive into its golden years. However, the show’s nonsensical premise and hastily assembled recycled pieces promote troublesome themes without displaying any self-awareness.

The storyline: an exquisite example of fortuity
The story, which takes place before the Money Heist, follows Berlin as he seeks to show off his intelligence by robbing a bank vault in Paris of €44 million worth of diamonds. How might anything go wrong? Not much, it seems, in the world of Berlin. The storyline follows the exact trajectory of an inebriated person staggering across a field of banana peels, mostly depending on serendipity instead of any kind of well-planned strategy.

As if expecting we wouldn’t notice, the series brazenly appropriates roles and characters from its parent program in an astounding display of creativity. Berlin is joined by a contemplative but restrained genius who acts as the intellectual force (represented by Tristán Ulloa as Damián, an older, bespectacled counterpart to Álvaro Morte’s El Profesor), a charming but simple-minded person (Joel Sánchez as Bruce, a less complex version of Jaime Lorente’s Denver), and an adventure seeker who is troubled by a past relationship (Begoña Vargas, who seems doomed to fail as her character, Camerón, is a close replica of Úrsula Corberó’s Tokyo).

The show’s characters are not completely unoriginal, and the similarities are freely recognized. Keila, portrayed by Michelle Jenner, is a fresh and unique character who is a shy hacker. But the fact that one character, Roi (Julio Peña Fernández), is named Rio, an anagram of Miguel Herrán’s character from the first season, seems like an inside joke.

You can’t help but wonder whether the designers, Álex Pina and Esther Martínez Lobato, were pressed for time or were simply being lazy for fun. It’s a cut-and-paste job.

Unleashed misogyny
Berlin’s support of sexist conduct is one thing that remains constant. Sadly, the female characters rehash the same clichés of being gullible, enamored with the males in their lives, and unable to make rational decisions when passion and love are involved.

It’s as if the show’s effort to address sexism and misogyny is like putting a band-aid on a deep cut; instead of making the issue go away, it will make you grimace. Words like “misogyny” and “sexism” almost seem to have been used by the authors in an attempt to make the show seem conscious of its shortcomings, but in the end, it seems as if they were trying to say, “We know it’s wrong, but let’s do it anyway.”

Pedro Alonso: fan of chaos
Beneath the debris of faulty narratives and dubious character selections, Pedro Alonso stands forth as Berlin’s savior. His depiction of Berlin reminds us of the genius one may see in Money Heist, showing a character who thrives on chaos and adrenaline. Alonso’s portrayal breathed new life into a show that was desperately lacking depth.

The ensemble cast is actually the only “heist-worthy” component in the series. The ensemble cast succeeds in restoring some pride for Berlin despite the fact that the plot is as flat as a pancake left out in the sun. Because of the dull plot, their performances have moments of true connection and intensity that sometimes break through the yawning.

To sum up: A slog with no real consequences
Berlin slips, falls, and faceplants into a mediocrity pit; it does more than simply fail to live up to the legacy of Money Heist. Berlin’s effort to be humanized fails miserably, leaving us with a shallow and aimless character analysis. What should have been an intriguing examination of a sinister figure becomes a heist of errors, supporting dubious subjects and depending too much on coincidences.