17/07/2025 - Nacho Vigalondo brings his trademark style, brimming with pop fantasy, to a bizarre true story that captivated Spain at the turn of the century and dominated the most sensationalist TV programmes

On 18 July, Netflix will premiere the tragicomedy Superestar, created by Nacho Vigalondo (Daniela Forever [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Nacho Vigalondo
film profile]) and co-directed with Claudia Costafedra (the series Cardo). Very loosely based on real events, this six-episode series is an experience not only for Spanish audiences familiar with the original case and its peculiar, famous protagonists, but also for anyone who wants to dive into Vigalondo’s rich, pop-saturated and imaginative universe. Each episode spotlights increasingly delirious, fascinating and kitsch characters.

The script, written by the two directors together with María Bastarós and Paco Bezerra, revolves around the early artistic career of Basque singer Yurena (played with uncanny mimicry by Ingrid García-Jonsson, who can already start clearing space on her awards shelf). Known then as Tamara, she became a true pop icon in the early 2000s with the song "No cambié" and her album Superestar.

Certain television programmes quickly focused on her and her temperamental mother/guardian Margarita Seisdedos (played by the magnificent Rocío Ibáñez, seen in The Sacred Spirit [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Chema García Ibarra
film profile]) and her entire eccentric entourage, made up of Extremaduran composer Leonardo Dantés (Secun de la Rosa), singer Tony Genil (Pepón Nieto), her manager Arlekín (Julián Villagrán), his lover Loly Álvarez (Natalia de Molina) and the vegetable psychic Paco Porras (Carlos Areces).

Full of surprises (including musical ones) and cameos from Spanish celebrities, each episode begins with Vigalondo himself introducing the protagonist as a television presenter (a role similar to the one he played in the series The Other Side [+see also:
series review
trailer
series profile]). What follows is that character’s vision of what happened during those turbulent years at the beginning of the 21st century, when everything seemed possible and the limits of what was respectable were blown to smithereens in the media.

Following in the footsteps of the series Veneno [+see also:
series review
series profile], which also reimagined a popular icon exploited by the tackiest and trash TV, Superestar becomes a grand farce. A contemporary Iberian arena in the style of Valle Inclán, where underground culture rubs shoulders with mainstream fame, where its antiheroes are turned into national legends. While the pathetic, grotesque and delirious go hand in hand, the series also overflows with glitter, unbridled imagination and a baroque flair. This is thanks to its unrestrained and creative directors and actors who clearly had too much fun imitating the real-life figures while filming this fictionalised and absurd portrait of a sleazy, roguish, Cainite, and opportunistic world—yet one that is also profoundly tender, like the love of a mother (an artist) for her daughter Tamara, who is eternally a child in her eyes.

Superestar was produced by Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi (through their company Suma Content) for Netflix.

(Translated from Spanish by Vicky York)