O Jogo da Viúva

They say that truth is stranger than fiction and I think that applies here because if I hadn't known it was a true story I'm not sure I would have believed in it.

The movie follows a police investigation into the murder of a young man in Valencia, Spain. A prime suspect is quickly identified, but the detectives need to surveil and wire tap for some months to gather enough evidence for a conviction, and also to find a suspected accomplice. The film dramatises both the suspects' and the police actions during this period.

This was a very clever script that quickly outlined the basic facts of the case, and then very slowly drew you right into this strange world. You see the story unfold through the eyes of the detectives and as it becomes more and more surprising so the characters become more and more interesting.

The acting was brilliant all round and the film was well paced and nicely photographed. I was riveted by the end and keen to find out more about the true story.

Netflix's latest true crime production, The Black Widow, revisits the infamous and deeply unsettling "Patraix Crime" - and does so without moral anesthesia or a sentimental gloss. It makes no attempt to redeem, to console, or to wrap the horror in politically correct discourse. What it offers instead is the clinical dissection of a murder, premeditated in cold blood by two functional adults who, in 21st-century Spain, believed they could get away with it.

Unlike many productions in the genre that mask their voyeurism with a supposed aim of "honoring the victims," this film goes straight to the point. We do not see the body. We do not witness the crime. There is no exploitation of grief, no emotional pornography. The victim and his family are respected - truly respected - and the film gains rather than loses by this restraint. The lens turns instead to the perpetrators, exposing something more uncomfortable, more revealing, and more socially valuable: the internal architecture of those who cross the line.

Despite its evocative title, this is not a femme fatale fantasy. It is the real case of María Jesús Moreno Cantó - known as "Maje" - a nurse by profession, and Salvador Rodrigo Lapiedra, a hospital technician. Both were arrested on January 12, 2018. A seductive young woman manipulating an older, submissive man into becoming a weapon might sound like a cliché, but it is not. It is an archetype. And archetypes are not inventions of screenwriters - they are patterns of real life, repeated because they work, because they are encoded in our culture, our imagination, and, as Carl Jung would argue, in our collective unconscious.

The most disturbing part is not the crime itself, but its banality. Maje and Salva were convinced they could get away with it. They believed discretion, a sense of moral superiority, or the indifference of those around them would shield them. Pathological ego does not require psychotic delusions to act. It only needs self-indulgence, a functional environment that normalizes transgression, and a generous dose of fantasy. As behavioral neuroscience reminds us, the human brain can justify morally reprehensible actions as long as it sees itself as an exception - or rewrites the ethical script to accommodate its desires.

And this is where The Black Widow excels. There is no sensationalism here. There is anatomy. Not just of the crime, but of the decisions, the rationalizations, the self-deception, and the twisted bond between two people who were not victims of each other, but co-conspirators feeding off their shared delusion.

Ivana Baquero and Tristán Ulloa deliver outstanding performances. She is cold, but never cartoonish. He is pathetic, but recognizably human. The script avoids the easy trap of portraying the killers as inhuman monsters; instead, it shows them for what they are: people. And that is far more terrifying. Because if they are people, then anyone - under the right (or wrong) conditions - could potentially become something similar. That is the truly frightening truth.

For me, the crown jewel is Carmen Machi. In a role stripped of her usual comedic register, she plays the investigator who faces life's harshness head-on and trusts her instincts. Though the character is fictionalized, it stands as a worthy tribute to the real-life police work behind the case - to the kind of investigator who, without epic speeches or spotlight, bears the emotional weight of brutal cases, tracking evidence and confronting institutional fatigue. Machi's performance doesn't rely on grand monologues; it lives in hardened gestures, emotional restraint, and her embodiment of a type of woman fiction often forgets: the resilient professional who carries on simply because she must.

The film's aesthetic choices are also commendable. Carlos Sedes's direction avoids visual sensationalism. There is a clinical cleanliness to the world depicted - hospital corridors, anonymous stairwells, police offices. Everything evokes the banality of evil, to borrow Hannah Arendt's phrase: monstrosity doesn't dwell in gothic castles or dark rituals; it lives in your building's hallway, in the hospital kitchen chat, in a WhatsApp message.

And yes, this too is science. Forensic psychology studies show that the most dangerous criminals are not the cinematic psychopaths, but the functional individuals who integrate their perversion into everyday structures. They are the ones who "don't seem capable of that." The human brain doesn't register danger in those who behave normally - and that is why certain signals go unnoticed: because they do not break the pattern.

Bambú Producciones approaches this story with meticulous care. Eschewing the trap of gory reenactments, they maintain narrative tension by focusing on psychology. Instead of simply recounting what happened, they explore how it could happen, and why the perpetrators convinced themselves that their actions weren't criminal, but justified. This is more than storytelling: it's emotional pedagogy. It teaches how moral self-deception works, and how intimacy can become a stage for domination.

In short, The Black Widow is a resounding success. Not only for its acting and technical quality, but for its ethical stance: it neither glorifies nor trivializes its subjects. It reveals the horror of the ordinary - how easy it is to cross the line when one believes the world owes them something. A work not only to be seen, but to be felt - in the skin, the gut, and, if watched with eyes wide open, in the conscience.

Netflix offers us a surprising offering, based on true events that shook Spain and Europe in 2017, based on Patraix's Black Widow. Directed by Carlos Sedes and starring Ivana Baquero, Carmen Machi, and Tristán Ulloa.

The film offers a powerful true crime thriller that captivates you as we learn about the brutality of the events and the underlying story of its two main perpetrators. The film is further enhanced by the excellent script and the decision to tell us from the perspective of its three protagonists, concluding with the unfolding of the events that saddened all of Spain in 2017.

Carlos Sedes's direction offers no grand extravaganzas, but it does employ an absolute seriousness when confronting the stories and the rawness of his characters. The director's work, rendered with a documentary essence, helps us truly capture the crime in its entirety, and we want to confront the events with complete unease and uncertainty. His leading trio plays an essential role in making everything work smoothly. Machi, Baquero, and Ulloa give their all to their characters, which means we see the true protagonists of reality in the skin of their cast.

Its two-hour running time, which may seem a bit long, really flies by once we're completely hooked on the events and the way it tells us everything behind the horrendous crime. The use of sound and narration are fundamental pillars that make Netflix's offering a pleasant and well-chosen pastime. The streaming platform surprises with a very interesting film that manages to pique our interest thanks to all its virtues and a story that is effective in every aspect, and whose director knows how to handle everything with the necessary caution, so that the necessary fiction never interferes with the reality of a brutal crime.

One of Netflix's pleasant surprises this 2025.

This film is based on a true event, and honestly, nothing about it is surprising. Everything is highly predictable. Maybe I'm old, but I found it ridiculous-despite the involvement of some genuinely good actors. The story itself is just plain stupid. It's hard to believe that people in the real world, even in 2017, could think they could get away with such a crime. I simply cannot comprehend how this was even possible. It's truly frustrating to know that this actually happened. As for the movie itself, it's not great-there's nothing particularly fascinating or memorable about it.

I can't really tell why it has been on my Netflix recommendations. But, I did watch it. It's a great start, and at the end I was expecting a twist because everything was highly predictable. You need to be 12 years old to find it surprising. Good actors, so-so writing. And there was no reason to have a nudity and that too in the middle of the story. What for ?

I think only Netflix has the ability with all its money and all its excess to so many countries talents and this a true life story and COMPLETELY COCK IT UP 👏 10 STARS 🌟 FOR THIS It's all there in the case the twists turns phone calls and yet it misses by a week tbh honest the actors didn't do a bad job they are good enough but it's not enough to bring any tense atmosphere intrigues to light the back story's week there's nothing to get your teeth into just a little more though a better script and some umph yes umph it could have been great but alas it's another nextflix dud never really fires 🔥