‘Delirium’ (2025) Netflix Series Review - Nothing Wild To See Here

According to the Google dictionary, there are two definitions of delirium. One of them deals with the disturbed state of mind or consciousness with symptoms such as confusion, disorientation, agitation, and hallucinations. This is something that can be viewed through the character of Agustina (Estefania Piñeres). She can be giving a blowjob to a boy one moment and then become all hazy and confused the next. In that latter state of mind, she sees bugs or insects or whatever those tiny crawlers are. Why is Agustina like this? Blame her mother, Eugenia (Paola Turbay), for being an alcoholic, a pill popper. Eugenia often lives in denial, a trait she learned from her own mother. As a wife, she remains emotionally and physically distant from her husband, Carlos (Salvador del Solar). As a mother, she remains aloof from her kids, so much so that she neither stands up for Bichi when Carlos hits him for "dancing like a woman" (he is gay), nor does she assure Agustina that the period blood flowing down her legs is completely normal. The Londoño household is fractured; only Agustina and Bichi manage to hold on to each other. But when Bichi moves out of the house, Agustina becomes lonely, and her mental condition gets worse. The only time she feels "normal" is when she is around Midas (Juan Pablo Urrego). You can call him her soulmate—her true love. Agustina and Midas are made for each other, and under different, better conditions, they could have married and lived happily together. However, like Bichi, Midas, too, goes away from Agustina's life for so long that she ends up falling in love with a professor named Fernando Aguilar (Juan Pablo Raba). 

Fernando, we are told, has strong political views, but they are mentioned in passing during his introduction scene, where he delivers a speech to the students. How does the political situation in the show's world change throughout the episodes, and what opinion does Fernando hold with respect to these changes is something that's left unexplored. Rather, he merely ends up fulfilling a shallow function. He is portrayed as a dedicated husband and a very caring lover, who leaves his job to care for Agustina. How does he handle the stress of dividing his time between his sick wife and his new job? Delirium/Delirio has no answer. In fact, Fernando is simply displayed as a full-time caretaker who apparently doesn't think about money or medical bills. Agustina, at one point, is admitted to a hospital. How much this situation drains him financially is not discussed. In one episode, Fernando doesn't invite Agustina on a trip with him and his sons. The reason could be that he is jealous, considering that the sons hit on Agustina, and she behaves quite comfortably with them (this is what she tells Fernando). Does this mean Fernando traps Agustina inside the home, far from the lusty eyes of other men? Has he also forbidden her from talking to their neighbors? If not, then why doesn't Agustina try to strike up a conversation with anyone who isn't already part of her intimate circle? Given that Agustina shows enthusiasm to go on that trip with Fernando's sons, she couldn't have imposed isolation on herself. 

Then again, it's impossible to understand her viewpoint, given that she's mainly used for hallucinatory episodes. Agustina's sickness solely moves the wheels of the plot. It generates unimaginative, insect-ridden visuals, but no insights regarding what the character herself experiences during such disturbing occasions. She doesn't discuss how she feels in the state of delirium or how her body reacts from the inside during such episodes. The series is merely interested in using her condition for superficial decorations. There is something unpleasant about this approach. Agustina is used in the same way as, say, an image of a disabled kid might be used for donation scams or cheap emotional manipulations. What Delirium leaves out of its script reveals more about the narrow ambitions of the show, its writers (Andrés Burgos and Verónica Triana), and its director (Julio Jorquera Arriagada). It tells us how Midas convinces Carlos to shake his hand for shady business (it's all pretty sweatless), but doesn't say if Carlos, who's clearly impressed by Midas' ambitions, ever wonders if he could swap Bichi with him or had a son like him. Delirium also never gets into Joaco's thoughts on the relationship between Carlos and Midas. Does he not even feel a little bit jealous when his father showers praises on this money launderer? It seems as though all the juicy parts have been drained from the story, allowing the series to concentrate on a straightforward romantic drama that's made convoluted by a non-linear structure. 

This non-linearity is mere embellishment - a distraction from the predictable nature of Delirium. The series reduces scenes to puzzle pieces, and each piece falls into its place neatly at the right moment. What's revealed is just plot information. We learn nothing new about the characters; nothing that makes you sit up. A complex structure like this often comes with a serious drawback: a lack of dramatic power. Delirium isn't able to overcome this issue. Arriagada is so busy trimming sequences like a tile to fit a rigid pattern that crucial melodramatic emotions never come to the surface of Delirium. The entire story sticks out as a lengthy exposition. The only duty the characters perform is the one that they are required to do in front of the camera. The series has no place for remarks or moments that do not move the story forward. This means that the characters have no hobbies, no favorite films, and no opinion about the society they live in. They listen to music only so that it can act as a background score. A man does photography so that the pictures he clicks can influence the trajectory of the story at a later point. Even one of Agustina's tarot cards ends up sending Fernando on an investigative path. This brings me to the second definition of delirium that can be found on the Google dictionary: wild excitement or ecstasy. Well, both these elements are sorely missing from this adaptation of Laura Restrepo's book. It's busy, always in motion, but it's never exciting or intriguing.

Final Score- [5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times