I have to admit: Billionaires Bunker sparks curiosity from the start. The setting—this ultra-high-end subterranean fortress, the Kimera Underground Park, has a sheen. Wealthy people are preparing for nuclear fallout, tension, secrets, and old wounds. The promise is big, and for much of the eight‐episode season, it delivers enough to stay entertaining. But the show also trips over its own ambition in places, leaving you wondering if the apocalypse isn’t outside but in the script.
From the outset, the creators (Álex Pina, Esther Martínez Lobato) lean into contrast: opulent bunker architecture, high‐tech comforts, and the looming sense that upward of several billionaires are about to find out that privilege doesn’t protect from ugliness, especially personal ugliness. Max, freshly released from prison, guilty over the death of his girlfriend in an accident he caused, meets the family of the deceased, her father, Guillermo, and her sister Asia, inside this shelter. Grief mixes with resentment, and old rivalries feed new hostility. There’s a palpable tension in every polite meal, every forced social mixer in blue jumpsuits, every apology that lands like a stone.
What works quite well: the tension between spectacle and claustrophobia. Yes, the bunker has spas, screens that show the apocalypse above, strict surveillance, weird dress codes (blue for the guests, orange for the staff), and a facade of safety. It’s shiny, polished, but that polish cracks quickly. One character's privilege becomes another’s panic. Watching rich people who thought they could buy safety, only to find that guilt, fear, rage, and grief aren’t things you can waterproof against, that’s a satisfying reversal.
Max and Asia’s dynamic is a central emotional thread. Asia (whose sister died in the crash Max was driving in) oscillates between contempt and something softer. Max has internal conflict: guilt, a desire for redemption, but also shame. Their interactions are probably the most grounded parts of the show, when it isn’t being weighed down by over‐elaborate conspiracies. Also, Minerva, the bunker organizer, and her hidden layers (her motives, her power games) are interesting. She’s not entirely sympathetic, but she’s magnetic, and she carries the show through its darker turns.
Visually, it’s impressive. The production design deserves applause. The contrast of color (blue vs orange; the flashbacks vs the bunker interior vs the outside world) gives mood. The tech-elements, the bunker as character (tight corridors, monitoring, redemption arcs played out under pressure), the flashbacks, those are handled well. Sometimes, when the show remembers to breathe, it feels cinematic. You believe in the potential of the drama.
But here is where things slide. First: the premise is strong, but the storytelling sometimes leans too heavily into what we’ve seen before. The “luxury bunker for the wealthy during world collapse” isn’t brand new, and many of its beats betrayals, romance under pressure, the guilt-ridden protagonist, and the distant family member who resents him feel familiar. The problem isn’t that the show uses tropes; it’s that it often doesn’t twist them enough. You expect more surprises from the creators of Money Heist; sometimes the show delivers them, but often you see them coming.
The pacing suffers. In the early episodes, there’s momentum: the accident, Max’s release, the setup, entering the bunker, and meeting antagonists. After that, though, episodes tend to drag with subplot after subplot, flashbacks, romantic tension, and moralizing conversations. Some scenes feel like filler, stretching character motivations that were more compelling when raw and immediate. The conflict between guests and staff, the power plays by Minerva, the revelations about what might or might not be real above ground, all good in concept, but at times overextended.
Character focus fluctuates unevenly. Max and Asia get decent arcs, but many supporting characters are sketches rather than people. Guillermo’s rage, the staff members’ loyalty, and even Minerva’s hidden past are some of these that end up being clichés. A few actors elevate their scenes, but others feel stuck in archetypes. The show occasionally treats emotional trauma as a prop rather than exploring it fully. I kept wanting more interior life, more risk, less safety.
Also, the mystery elements: false leads, hidden agendas, the twist that perhaps the apocalypse isn’t what it seems, all that is intriguing. But by the mid‐season, the accumulation of “maybe this is controlled”, “maybe they’re being manipulated”, “maybe everything above ground is fake” begins to feel like overcooked soup. The stakes sometimes feel vague: are we watching for what’s happening above, or the way the characters betray each other under stress? If both, then the show must be more disciplined in juggling the two. There are moments when it loses control of one or both threads.
The satire is light, but not sharp enough. The show wants to mock the absurdity of wealth, these people with infinite money, yet endlessly insecure in their gold-lined bunker. But often it just shows the absurdity without fully undercutting it. It laughs with its characters more than at them, and that undercuts the critique a bit. If you want your satire biting, Billionaires Bunker offers more smirk than sting.
Overall, Billionaires Bunker is worth watching, especially if you like your apocalypse with ego, your stakes with secrets, your wealth with guilt. It doesn’t fully reinvent the genre, nor does it always make its high-concept ideas land. But when it does, the result is memorable: the emotional beats do hit, the scenes of confrontation are satisfying, the visual world is immersive, and the moral messiness gives you plenty to chew on.
If I were advising the show, I'd suggest trimming some of the sprawling subplots, leaning harder into fewer characters so we feel more for them, and sharpening the satire so that the rich aren’t just dramatic, but absurd in a way that’s also critical. As it stands, Billionaires Bunker is a glamorous roller coaster: fun, occasionally jolting, sometimes too smooth in its turns.
In the end, this is a ride with glitter and grit. It doesn’t always soar, but it rarely crashes without giving you something to think about. If you like tension, longing, moral compromises, and watching people behave badly under pressure, all garnished with luxury, this bunker is entertaining. Just don’t expect every twist to sting, or every character to surprise you.
Final Score- [4/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times