The hot new Netflix series from Spain, entitled ELITE, proves sensational twice over

There are two major meanings of the word "sensational," and both easily fit the new Spanish series streaming now on Netflix. The first refers to something causing great public interest and excitement (synonyms: shocking, scandalous, appalling), the second tackles the quality of that thing: very impressive, gorgeous, stunning, captivating, and so forth. ELITE, which is set in an uber-high-end prep school in Spain in which the students, hormone-fueled to the max, engage in all kinds of sex -- straight, gay, and even threesomes -- proves sensational on both fronts.

The product of a pair of well-known Spanish writers/producers (shown above, respectively right and left), Darío Madrona (Vive cantando) and Carlos Montero (The Time in Between), Elite will be quite enough for some viewers interested in watching a group of gorgeous young actors, clothed and unclothed, getting it on. That we come to know and understand these kids so well and begins to care about them more and more as the series progresses is due to the exceptional writing and the crack performances given by every last cast member.

In conception and execution, Elite proves exactly that. The plot kicks into action as a trio of new students -- a Muslim girl and two boys of clearly working-class status, above (above, left to right: Itzan Escamilla, Mina El Hammani, and Miguel Herrán) -- are introduced into this high school made up of the sons and daughters of Spain's exclusive and entitled one per cent (two of which are shown below: Ester Expósito and Álvaro Rico)  Divisions are immediately drawn -- by the end of the first episode we know that a murder has been committed -- and the following seven episodes are devoted to blurring those divisions.

We soon find that we are seeing some good in the kids we initially despised, while finding fault with those we liked and most rooted for. In short, the characters here are rounded; they grow and they change. Some more than others, and some very little (especially the nasty, rich bitch below, played to near-perfection by Danna Paola), and their movements back and forth as they learn who they are, along with who their friends really are (or aren't) makes the series grow ever richer.

The Spanish, bless 'em, may be the best purveyors of melodrama in the world (followed perhaps by the South Koreans). Grand Hotel is of course the sterling example for our millennium, with so many other series like La casa de papel (known as Money Heist on Netflix) not far behind. Is this creative ability built into the Spanish DNA? One does have to wonder because -- so clever is the plotting, so fine the casting and characterizations, and so spectacular the production design and visuals -- little else compares.

The series is said to have raised eyebrows and hackles in its native Spain, ostensibly for its sexuality. (That's Arón Piper , left, with newcomer Omar Ayuso, above.) But I do wonder if, on a deeper level, it's the cynical "take" on the children of the one per cent, and their powerful, mostly despicable parents holding onto to power by any means necessary, that has riled the powers-that-be even more.

The attitude here is mostly progressive, including even the sex-and-sin portions, which are plentiful. Though we know the murder victim early on (this is nothing like Big Little Lies), the identity of the murderer remains hidden until the finale. (That's Miguel Bernardeau, above right, as the most entitled and pushy of the elite crew.)

Any justice, however, will have to be meted out during Elite's second season. There will surely be one, as the first season has been a major hit, with its popularity only growing as more countries discover its pleasures. Above, right, is Jaime Lorente, who plays the pivotal older brother of one of the new students. Both he and Senor Herrán (standing, below, center, and at bottom, left), are also stars of the Money Heist series. The two are clearly talented and versatile performers, with Herrán quite the little scene-stealer.

Probably the most problemed and difficult of all these characters is our sort-of heroine, Marina, played by María Pedraza, below, whose behavior and decisions will have you rooting for her one minute and wanting to smack her the next. Ms Pedraza was also in Money Heist, playing the pivotal character of Alison Parker. She is so different here as to be very nearly unrecognizable, yet in her own strange way, she holds the series' first season together.

You can stream Elite now, here in the USA and elsewhere via Netflix. Do give it a try. TrustMovies' blood pressure is still raised a bit, thanks to all the provocative goings-on.

Sunday Corner with Lee Liberman: Spanish telenovela, THE TIME IN-BETWEEN proves a soapy, entertaining, historical romance

Having liked the relentless Spanish caper, Gran Hotel, I figured there might be something to THE TIME IN-BETWEEN (El tiempo entre costuras), released in 2013 to huge Spanish viewership, now distributed in many languages and streaming on Netflix. Dubbed a Spanish Downton Abbey, the series, based on a recent novel by Maria Dueñas, spans the young adulthood of seamstress, Sira Quiroga (Adriana Ugarte, shown left), whose quixotic rags-to-riches maturity takes place during the Spanish Civil War and the run-up to WWII.

Melodrama is the link between Gran Hotel and The Time In-Between; the former is a fast-paced satire of the genre, while the latter is an unapologe-tic tear-jerker -- much more old-time melodrama in which Little Red Riding Hood escapes the wolf by the skin of her teeth than spy-thriller romance. (From the sample I read online, the novel is better.) The swooning score, tear-stained cheeks, giddy girl-crushing, and other emotional manipulation almost buries the thing. But shame on me -- I got hooked anyway. If nothing else, the series offers immersion into the domestic life and political atmosphere of a period we may know only through Hemingway's war writing and Pablo Picasso's famous war painting Guernica. The landscapes and architecture of Madrid, Lisbon, and nearby Moroccan cities of Tangiers and Tetouan are seductive, especially the rhythmic calls to prayer and throbbing markets. I was surprised at the proximity and intertwining of the cultures of these Iberian cities (see map above).

Sira, our heroine, grew up poor in Madrid and is pregnant in Muslim Morocco (then a protectorate of Spain with a Spanish population and infrastructure), when Ramiro, her handsome boyfriend (Rubén Cortada, pictured below) dumps her. She passes out on a bus and finds herself in a hospital in the city of Tetouan, the Moroccan capital of the Spanish protectorate. The police commissioner installs her in a hostel with orders to work and pay off the hotel bill in Tangiers that Ramiro left behind. An oddly acquired cash windfall enables her to start her own dressmaking business that flourishes due to the patronage of the German wives whose husbands serve the German embassy.

Meanwhile the Spanish Civil War has sealed off Madrid, and Sira, now self- supporting, is unable to go home where war rages nor bring her mother to safety in Morocco. War is out of sight, but politics is asserting itself in the anti-English, jingoistic chatter of her German clients whose husbands are tasked with influencing leader Francisco Franco to join the German side as WWII approaches.

Sira's confidante, Rosalinda Fox, is the lover of Juan Luis Beigbeder, a Spanish high official stationed in Tetouan (a real-life couple, here played by Hannah New and Tristán Ulloa, above). Beigbeder was deeply opposed to Hitler and eventually failed to persuade Franco not to join the Axis countries. His relationship with Rosalinda, an English woman, was used to remove him from power once Franco joined the Axis (no doubt in exchange for German aid in winning his civil war). But in the meantime Sira has been recruited to spy for the English, whose interest, like her own, lies in keeping Spain out of the coming war.

Sira's infiltration of the German social scene leads to her entanglement with sexy beast, Manual Da Silva, a Portuguese entrepreneur (the excellent Filipe Duarte, above), who is close to inking a business deal with the Germans that will enable them to corner the tungsten market (the mineral required for munitions manufacture). And on we go with cloak and dagger involvement in the German build up to war mixed with sewing ball gowns for clients and gossiping to probe for information. We are treated to a host of plot contrivances and elegant fashions of the late 30's worn to perfection by our beautiful heroine.
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The time in-between' may refer to the period between the two world wars but is definitely Sira's method of communicating with her English spy-master, Alan Hillgarth (also a historical figure, here played by Ben Temple) -- she uses Morse code marked as stitches on paper dress patterns ('costuras' = 'seams'). An attractive English journalist, Marcus Logan (Peter Vives) becomes Sira's love interest, mostly from afar, as she will blow her cover with her German clients if she is seen with an Englishman. Above, the pair are on the run from Da Silva's hit men. (Vives, whose biography reports he is a classical pianist, may have graced us with a melodious sample of Schubert from the stage of a concert hall at which our characters assemble in Episode 12.)

Once launched into Sira's world of espionage and couture, I gave into Adriana Ugarte's warmth and magnetism, despite tsk-tsk-ing all the way through at sappy melodramatics that drown real moments of sentiment. Some ruthless editing and direction could have cut the silliness from this romance of politics, adventure, and beauty in a time and place we know so little. The Spanish have plenty appetite for melodrama -- the series that have made it to Netflix, including Velvet and Gran Hotel, wallow in it.

The above post is written by our correspondent, 

Brooklyn-based Lee Liberman, who  

checks in monthly on a Sunday.

Streaming follow-up: fans of Spain's gorgeous GRAN HOTEL finally get a third-season finale!

If comments on this blog are any indication, that delectable and beautiful soap opera via Span-ish television, GRAND HOTEL, has got to be one of the more popular foreign TV offerings currently avail-able on Netflix streaming. Fans have been begging the famous "content distributor" to give them that final season for nearly a year now. At last, here it is -- in 24 episodes of 44 minutes each.

When Season Two ended with the shock and jolt that left many of us with our mouths hanging open, some of us imagined that this indeed was indeed the end of the series -- in which the characters, many of whom were very bad people, got what they deserved. Still, we wondered, what about all the others? Now we know.

The series, based on an idea by a man and woman whom I would guess are the Spanish equivalent of what we over here in the USA call showrunners -- Ramón Campos (above, right) and Gema R. Neira (above, left), both of whom produced and collaborated on the writing of most, maybe all, of the episodes -- takes place in and around the titular grand hotel (filmed at the famous Palacio de la Magdalena) in the lush and verdant seaside locations of Santander in Cantabria, Spain.

Both outdoors and indoors, the series is a visual knockout, what with the gorgeous exterior shots and the highly detailed interiors -- oh, the flatware and china, the exquisite decor and costumes -- Gran Hotel proves a non-stop feast for the eyes. Comparisons have and will continue to be made to Downton Abbey, and they are certainly apt. But for my money this Spanish series beats out the British one, bigtime. Even if, I must admit, the third season does have its longueurs now and again. In order to reach its finale via those 24 episodes, a certain amount of padding is present.

Still, if you become as heavily involved with all these many, many characters as did I (and clearly many other viewers), it may be difficult not to become absolutely wrapped up in the often silly but always enjoyable plotting. This final season offers up the Alarcon's spoiled-rotten ladies' man son (Eloy Azorín, above, left) suddenly smitten with a nurse named Laura who has come to care for the wounded after season two's sudden "mishap." As played by Marta Hazas (above, right), this character proves a wealth of surprise, fun and, well, you'll find out....

Of course we have more of the Inspector Ayala (Pep Anton Muñoz, above, left) and his not-so-swift assistant (Antonio Reyes, above, right), both of whom manage to become even more fun as the series progresses, along with our ever-kept-apart lovebirds, Alicia and Julio (Amaia Salamanca and Yon González (on poster, top, and in the photo just below it), who remain as engaging as ever, though Ms Salamanca seems to have grown older and less lustrous, given all her poor character has had to put up with over 66 episodes.

Gran Hotel has become one of my favorite shows, due, I think, to the Spanish-ness of it all. I found it even more of a soap-opera than Downton Abbey, yet I liked it much better. These are some of the most memorable characters you'll spend this much time with -- so specific and interesting, despite the fact that they -- some of them, at least, like Doña Teresa, played by the very fine Adriana Ozores, shown center, above, in one of her more provocative moments -- get away with murder and somehow we still care about them. (This is one of the series' more troubling and interesting accomplishments.)

Then there's the whole "randy priest" thing involving our lying, murdering and adulterous Sofia (Luz Valdenebro, at ), along with the surprise of Javier finally learning to commit to his nutty wife (and the fact that he can only get an erection with her, of all things!).

And then, especially, there is Belén (played with enormous steel and force by Marta Larralde, shown center, above) -- who for some reason, despite her truly nasty deeds and utterly heartless demeanor, I'll remember best and with real fondness from the episodes in which she gives birth to and then loses her offspring -- a time in which she was most human, caring, vulnerable and sad.

Is there a villain in TV history you can hate more thoroughly yet find so damned sexy and alluring as that key character, Diego, played with such relish and smarts by Pedro Alonso (above, left)?  I doubt it.

This season, there are several new and very enjoyable characters, led by Alicia's dear friend Maite (played with delicious verve and flair by Megan Montaner, above) and the hotel's new and unusual maître d' (essayed by that fine and duly famous Spanish actor Lluís Homar, below).

With all its silliness and faults -- maybe even because of them -- I believe this to be an extraordinary series, like nothing else I can recall seeing. Its take on power, money and the coming of the Spanish middle class, and its joining, toward the end, of the wealthy to the poor (via "Duke" Alfredo and Doña Angela and her crew) I found most moving and progressive. Podemos would surely approve.

Gran Hotel, can be seen now via Netflix streaming or on DVD and Blu-ray. Do check it out. (That's the lovelorn, lovable and ever-naive Andrès, above, a waiter-turned-heir who is played by the uber-lovable actor, Llorenç González.) 

Streaming guilty pleasure (& what a pleasure!), the smart 'n spicy Spanish series GRAND HOTEL

Sure, it's a soap opera. Yes, it's a tele-novela. But there are times in one's life that sinking into a sleek, sure-footed piece of glamour like the Spanish television series GRAND HOTEL can be just the ticket to out-and-out pleasure. Think of it as the Spanish answer to Downton Abbey, with all the upstairs/downstairs goings-on, the coincidences and overheard conversations -- only a lot more fun.

TrustMovies is now finished with the first season of this very enjoyable show (it's streamable via Netflix) and will definitely be watching the rest of the episodes. (Netflix offers the first two seasons in a total of 14 episodes.) It's also a chance to see some fine Spanish actors strut their stuff -- from some old-timers like Concha Velasco and Adriana Ozores (below) to some hot, young newcomers such as Amaia Salamanca and Yon González, (above) who play the not-quite lovers kept apart by circumstance and class.

The cast (major players are seen below) is extraordinarily well-chosen, and each actor delivers the role in spades. The performances are juicy, all right, but they are all so on-target and specific that the series never tumbles over into camp. It may come close now and again, but these steadfast actors, together with scripts that keep the pacing fast and the characterizations smart, save the day.

The story?  Well, a young man named Julio (González, below) comes to the fine, titular establishment looking for his sister, who was employed there as a chambermaid but who has now disappeared. He manages to get a job at the hotel while looking for clues as to what happened to sis -- often with the help of the daughter (Ms Salamanca) of the hotel's dragon-lady owner (Ms Ozores, above, second from left).

Along the way Julio befriends the dragon lady's son (below, right, who proves a nasty, unfeeling shit), along with another of the serving staff, whose mother (Ms Velasco) is in charge of the chambermaid staff. All the while, class and economic differences are made plain, and we see what the one per cent against the 99 looked like a century ago.

At least one murder occurs, and a high-level detective is sent from the big city to investigate; financial problems pile up, and both the dragon lady's daughters find themselves in a troubling romantic situation: one from a husband who now wants out of his marriage, the other from a suitor who doubles as the hotel's manager (at left in the photo at bottom) and is one supremely nasty piece of work.

All this is deftly juggled for terrific entertainment. And the look of the series is spectacular. From the opening credits, using archival photos, to the sets, costumes and antique cars--everything proves a visual knockout.

So, if you want to spend some time (14 episodes with each one around 45 minutes in length) in this glamorous venue with characters you'll come to care for (or hate), take a chance on Grand Hotel. Stream it now on Netflix, and you'll be hooked by the time you've hit episode three....