★★★
“Good afternoon and good night.”
I’ll treat these two seasons as one entity. Indeed, there’s a case to be made that you could include the first season as well, given the way they are inter-connected. However, it feels that the second and third are more directly linked. If you recall, the initial series had Sao Paolo cop Verônica Torres (Müller) looking into a domestic abuse case. However, this turns out not be as simple as it appears, with the abuser being protected by a mafia-like group, whose tentacles are embedded in a selection of power structures, including the police force. Series #2 and #3 take a broader scope, Verônica looking to take down elements of the group, and end their systemic abuse of women.
The second series focuses on Verônica’s efforts against a church run by sketchy and abusive faith healer Matias (Gianecchini). He has a line in inviting poor hurt souls – albeit only attractive, young women – to stay on the church’s property, where bad stuff happens to them. His wife is firmly beneath Matias’s thumb, and Verônica is now operating more less unofficially, though with tacit help from some on the force. Her only hope is to get to the daughter, Angela (Castanho), who is lesbian because Netflix. If she can convince Angela her father is not the saint his public persona appears to be, they might have a chance to expose his crimes. But doing so simply removes another layer of the conspiracy, with the shadowy “Doúm” remaining at large.
Which is where the third series comes in, as she finds Doúm to be horse breeder Jeronimo (Santoro). Initially, he seems on her side, which is remarkably naive of her, because he set my alarm bells ringing from the very start. Doesn’t help that he looks like a creepy combination of Liam Neeson, Kid Rock and Tommy Wiseau. And that’s before we learn about the questionable relationship with his mother, or that he grew up in the same abusive orphanage as Marias. Such concerns are very justified, because it turns out Jeronimo is not just breeding horses for fun and profit. He has his eye on both Angela and Verônica’s daughter, as the next brood mares, ready to be auctioned off to rich clients.
I felt it all got a little silly and excessive in the third season, with the plot requiring events which stretched plausibility to a breaking point. It’s likely a good thing it was only half the length of the second series, at three episodes rather than six. While it ends with Verônica looking to continue the fight for justice in her extra-legal capacity, the show was canceled, and I feel that’s wise given the steadily diminishing returns. There was a nice sense of circularity, series 3 ending in a suicide, the way the very first episode opened. However, the televisual cycle of abuse was becoming repetitive, although both the second and third seasons had some interesting revelations about Verônica’s family background. While Müller’s performance held things together, it’s likely better this stopped too soon, rather than too late.
Creator: Raphael Montes
Star: Taina Müller, Reynaldo Gianecchini, Klara Castanho, Rodrigo Santoro