Katarzyna Petru
It's time to abandon stereotypes: sport is not just sweat, discipline and records. In "Olympo", the new Spanish series on Netflix from the producers of "Elite", sport serves as a backdrop for drama, sex, intrigue and... suspiciously well-lit scenes in the locker room. It's a bit like "The Hunger Games" meeting "Top Model", only with a chest.
Zoe sprints onto the treadmill but finds herself in a cage with lions
The main character, Zoe (Nira Osahia), is chosen to train for the heptathlon at the High Performance Mountain Centre in the Pyrenees (HPC). The problem? Everyone around her is a cyborg set on victory. And Zoe, who runs not only towards the finish line but also from her past, struggles to find her place in all of this.
Right from the start, she encounters a wall of silence – her roommate Renata (Andy Duato) doesn't even try to talk to her. Two handsome muscle men from the rugby team – Charlie (Martí Cordero) and Sebas (Juan Perales) – turn the gym into an obstacle course full of humiliations. And the coaches? There's more of the soulless controllers in them than mentors.
Bodies that scream “look at me” – and a plot that sometimes falls silent
Let’s not kid ourselves – “Olympo” revolves around physicality. The cameras glide over the actors’ bodies as if shooting an underwear commercial. Slow-mo, sweat, pool, sauna, shower. There’s plenty to look at – and Netflix knows it well.
Roque (Agustín Della Corte), the captain of the rugby team and an openly gay athlete, is the most intriguing character in the series. In one scene, his “wrestling” moment with a mate practically crackles with tension. Then we have a homoerotic sequence of a rugby match interspersed with a possible kiss. And when the kiss really happens – naked, under the shower – it gets hot. In a literal sense.
Amaia and Her Drowning in Ambition
Amaia (Clara Galle) is a perfectionist who turns synchronised swimming into a battleground. She tries to secure sponsorship from Olympo for herself, but at the expense of her relationship with her partner Nuría (María Romanillos) and the rest of the team. And although her mission to "discover the truth" about HPC seems noble, it's hard not to get the impression that it’s all about her own ego.
The best moments? Those off the pitch. In the sauna and at illegal parties (who wouldn’t want to play “Beer-minton”, which is beer pong with darts?), the characters drop their masks and start saying what they think. Gossip, malice, tension. Zoe shines with her honesty, Roque impresses with his authenticity, and Amaia and Charlie are irritating yet captivating.
The plot sometimes stumbles, although the acting is stable...
Although the series has ambitions – doping, homophobia, pressure to succeed, sex as a form of escape – it often veers into the realm of the banal. The dialogues could be improved with a bit more depth. The investigation in the fourth episode, rather than ramping up the tension, slows down the action. The topic of transgender athletes was also completely overlooked – it was crying out for at least one sentence.
Nira Osahia as Zoe is the emotional centre of the series – she draws you in, experiences, and poses questions that you find yourself asking. Clara Galle as Amaia acts well, but her character is too irritating to really sympathise with. Sebas and Charlie steal every scene they appear in – whether through a look, or (in Charlie's case) through a striptease-style dance.
Verdict? A bit like a cheat meal after training...
“Olympo” doesn't discover America. But it doesn't need to. It's a series about beautiful people in beautiful places with not entirely beautiful intentions. It flows smoothly, sometimes almost too smoothly. But if you just want to fire up something light, visually intense, and with a hint of scandal – this is it.
Don't expect Olympic gold. But a bronze medal for guilty pleasure? Absolutely.
