La Suerte. Una serie de casualidades

First of all, I should say that I absolutely loved this series. It definitely deserves a full 10 out of 10. Let me start with the technical side. The series uses very distinctive and highly creative cinematic techniques. It is genuinely impressive. The sense of vitality is preserved, and the audience's attention is consistently taken into account. The directing, design, sets-everything, in short-strengthens the storytelling.

As for the story, it is quite original and unusual. In the first episode you don't fully understand what is going to happen, but then you suddenly find yourself right in the middle of it. The acting is, in a word, first-class. Not only the lead actors, but also the supporting cast deliver incredibly strong and striking performances. The character portrayals are crafted with great care. A truly professional production.

I really loved and admired this series. I'm genuinely glad I watched it, and I even feel like expressing my gratitude. I only wish we could watch the second season right away.

Some shows arrive quietly and end up winning you over little by little, and La suerte. Una serie de casualidades is one of them. Paco Plaza and Pablo Guerrero deliver a curious story - halfway between the absurd and the emotional - that plays with luck, tradition, and life's small ironies. It's not easy to define: part comedy, part slice-of-life drama, with moments of melancholy that feel deeply Spanish - the kind that hurts a bit, but also makes you smile.

Óscar Jaenada and Ricardo Gómez make an unexpected but brilliant duo. Their chemistry carries much of the story: one more restrained and cynical, the other more naïve and warm. Together they create a bond that gives truth to the narrative and makes even the strangest moments work. It's a joy to watch them together - so different, yet so perfectly in tune.

The series has a very particular tone, almost handcrafted. Its 16 mm-like texture and slow rhythm set it apart from today's streaming formulas, and that's precisely where its charm lies. It doesn't rush - it feels lovingly made, with care in every detail. Everything seems spontaneous, yet every gesture and frame feels deliberate.

There's also a deeper layer here, about identity, destiny, and the weight of being who we are as a country. La suerte dares to look at Spain's contradictions head-on - its lights and shadows - without clichés or mockery. It does so with respect, humor, and a touch of poetry that fits beautifully.

Without big gestures or spectacle, the show manages to move and amuse in equal measure. It's one of those rare gems that prove Spanish television can still surprise when it dares to be different - a small story with a big heart, made with intelligence, warmth, and a very distinct sense of humor.