The second seasons are usually not good like the second parts of the movies. The more unpredictable and original a show is, the harder it is to keep it on the air without the setup collapsing or waning interest and the story moving by inertia like one of those married couples who sleep in separate beds. Anyone who has attempted to write a long story knows that it is easy to begin and difficult to continue. That’s why open ends were invented to save the honor of the narrators who get lost in the forests they planted themselves.
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Cardo’s first season was an ordeal with a tight ending. Not only was it okay to leave the story there, but it seemed impossible to continue. Because of this, the three episodes of Season 2 that I’ve seen (the fourth is posted on Atresplayer today) made me a fan of Anarrujismo. I break my head at the talent of Ana Rujas, who tells us a story of loneliness and redemption like we’ve never seen before, with a freedom and an absolute lack of smugness towards the viewer that she sometimes holds by the hand leads, sometimes tracks – through certainly uncomfortable Andurriales that remain beyond kitsch, prison and carabanchel.
Rujas and her partner Claudia Costafreda are authentic and postmodern, extremely local and universal, comic and tragic. They say out there that the series portrays the generation that was born in the 1990s. I think she just portrays herself and her characters, the fear of this María recently released from prison, and speaks with a neo-baroque Christianity that doesn’t seem like anything, just those verses of Teresa de Jesús to which she entrusts as we surrender to Santa Ana Rujas.
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