I went into State of Fear curious about how a spin-off rooted in the world of Brotherhood would function as a standalone crime thriller, and for the most part, it succeeds by keeping the emotional stakes tight and the pacing restless. The story unfolds during a crisis within the Irmandade, a criminal faction whose leadership is being transferred to high-security prisons, destabilizing its hierarchy and triggering a series of desperate decisions. Elisa’s kidnapping becomes the spark that turns simmering tension into a citywide emergency, and from the opening sequences, the film moves with urgency that rarely lets up.
One of the strongest aspects for me was how the film treats Cristina, played by Naruna Costa, as both strategist and reluctant moral center. She is a lawyer with underworld ties, which gives the narrative a layered perspective: she operates within criminal logic while still wrestling with legal and ethical boundaries. Costa’s performance feels grounded and deliberate; she rarely pushes for melodrama, instead letting small shifts in expression carry the emotional beats. Camilla Damião’s Elisa complements this dynamic well, portraying a young woman shaped by violence but not entirely resigned to it. Their relationship anchors the chaos, and the film wisely returns to their conversations whenever the action risks becoming overwhelming.
The direction by Pedro Morelli leans heavily on long tracking shots, and while that stylistic choice could have felt gimmicky, here it often adds a sense of immersion. The camera moves through crowded streets, cramped interiors, and tense confrontations with an almost documentary-like persistence. The result is a visual rhythm that mirrors the instability of São Paulo during the “state of fear” declared by the faction. It creates momentum without relying solely on rapid editing. I appreciated how the cinematography captures the city’s architecture and atmosphere; the locations feel lived-in rather than stylized, which reinforces the grounded tone of the narrative.
The action sequences are intense but not excessive. Shootouts and chases appear at key turning points rather than as constant noise, and when they do occur, they serve character motivation rather than spectacle alone. There is a sequence midway through the film involving coordinated attacks across the city that stands out because of its clarity. Instead of cutting between random explosions, the film tracks specific characters navigating the fallout, which keeps the stakes personal. I found that approach refreshing compared to many contemporary crime thrillers that confuse urgency with chaos.
That said, the screenplay sometimes struggles to balance its multiple threads. The film attempts to juggle Elisa’s captivity, Cristina’s negotiations, internal conflicts within the Irmandade, and commentary on police corruption. While each strand is compelling individually, the transitions between them occasionally feel abrupt. There were moments when I wanted the narrative to linger longer on the psychological consequences of the violence rather than rushing toward the next plot development. The runtime is relatively tight, and I suspect a few quieter scenes were sacrificed for pacing.
Another mixed element for me was the moral framing. The film positions itself as a study of justice versus revenge, yet it occasionally leans into familiar crime-drama beats that soften its complexity. Some supporting characters, especially within the police force, come across as more symbolic than fully realized individuals. Their motivations are clear, but their personalities blur together, which weakens the tension in certain confrontations. When the story narrows its focus back to Cristina and Elisa, the emotional resonance returns, suggesting that the film works best when it stays intimate rather than expansive.
Seu Jorge’s presence adds weight even in limited screen time. He brings a sense of history to the narrative, reminding viewers that the current crisis is tied to past decisions within the faction. I liked how the film avoids turning him into a mythic figure; instead, he appears worn down by consequences, which reinforces the theme that no one in this world is entirely in control. The supporting cast, including David Santos and Hermila Guedes, contributes solid performances, though not all of them receive enough development to leave a lasting impression.
In terms of tone, State of Fear maintains a serious, grounded atmosphere without becoming oppressive. The dialogue feels natural, and the script avoids excessive exposition about the larger universe of Brotherhood. Even if you haven’t seen the series, the film provides enough context to understand the stakes. I appreciated that the narrative trusts the audience to piece together relationships through action rather than lengthy backstory dumps.
However, the film’s ambition occasionally works against it. By trying to explore organized crime, systemic corruption, family loyalty, and social unrest all at once, it sometimes spreads itself too thin. A few thematic ideas are introduced but not fully explored, especially regarding the socioeconomic backdrop of the conflict. The setting clearly hints at broader historical and political realities, yet the film rarely pauses long enough to unpack them. I found myself wanting more reflection on how the characters’ choices connect to the city’s wider tensions.
Despite these criticisms, the pacing largely keeps the experience engaging. The runtime moves quickly, and the narrative rarely drifts into filler. The climax delivers a satisfying emotional payoff, though it stops just short of being truly surprising. It resolves immediate conflicts while leaving lingering questions about justice and accountability, which feels appropriate for a story rooted in moral ambiguity.
What ultimately stayed with me was the film’s commitment to character perspective. Even during large-scale action, the camera seems interested in how individuals process fear rather than how explosions look on screen. That choice gives State of Fear a distinctive voice within Netflix’s growing catalog of international crime dramas. It doesn’t reinvent the genre, but it refines familiar elements with a sense of urgency and emotional clarity.
Walking away from it, I felt both impressed and slightly frustrated. The performances, visual style, and central relationship are strong enough to carry the film, and the action is staged with precision. At the same time, the narrative could have benefited from more breathing room and a deeper exploration of its themes. Still, as a tense, character-driven thriller that expands the world of Brotherhood while standing on its own, it offers a compelling watch that balances momentum with introspection, even if it occasionally reaches for more than it can fully deliver.
Final Score- [6/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
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Publisher at Midgard Times