Just Alice Review 2025 Tv Show Series Cast Crew Online
Year after year, Netflix has made concerted efforts to expand its international programming slate. As of 2025, their focus on one particular area has paid off: Latin American productions have steadily picked up steam ever since 2018, when the streamer first commissioned original content from local studios. Variety reports that “in just the second half of 2024, Spanish-language content on Netflix recorded an estimated 2.59 billion hours viewed, with Colombia leading the Latin American market with 24.6% of that total.” Said features, both film and television, span a range of genres and styles, including the exemplary 2024 adaptation of author Gabriel García Márquez’s seminal novel One Hundred Years of Solitude.
For their 2025 release slate, Netflix funded 10 Colombian projects. One of those titles is the upcoming Just Alice (or Simplemente Alicia), a romantic dramedy by writers Marta Betoldi and Esteban del Campo Bagu. Based on the first five episodes provided for review out of 19 total, this series launches the sometimes dreaded, sometimes adored love triangle trope on a full-speed, helter-skelter ride into unique, charming, and somewhat morally challenging territory. The intriguing premise, the ensemble’s excellent chemistry, and their dedicated performances just might guarantee Just Alice a spot in your weekend binge schedule.
Alicia Fernández (Verónica Orozco) risks being late to her own wedding. An outrageous array of obstacles — traffic jams, her car being towed, tearing the hem of her brand-new gown — forces her to change into her bridal regalia in a restaurant bathroom and ride, rather unglamorously, to the church on the back of her best friend’s motorcycle. Said friend, Susana (Constanza Camelo), is as adamantly against Alicia’s imminent nuptials as the universe appears to be. Despite needing to talk herself out of her own cold feet anxieties, Alicia persists. She’s too blissfully in love with her fiancé, Pablo (Sebastián Carvajal), an earnest and star-struck suitor involved with community justice, to heed such ominous warning signs. Once she makes it to the altar in one semi-frazzled piece, the priest declares Alicia and Pablo husband and wife.
Except, there’s a major wrinkle in the newlyweds’ happiness. Alicia’s already married to Alejo (Michel Brown), the author who proudly declares his wife as his muse and wrote his last bestseller in a conscious endeavor to better understand her mind — and neither husband is aware of the other. Over the next several episodes, viewers learn how this uncommon predicament unfolded. Before she met her future spouses, Alicia’s “why choose?” mentality was already baked into her worldview. “I want to do it my way,” her younger self once declared, not the “easy way.” Cue her specializing in two separate higher education degrees — politics and marketing — and planning to unify them into a client-based advising company. Similarly, Alicia’s determined to make the two great loves of her life work. Yet maintaining her secrets and managing her increasingly tumultuous job threaten the fragile happiness she’s defiantly chosen. What disasters will shatter her world when her two lives inevitably collide?
If you enjoy the idea of a telenovela on a Netflix budget, then Just Alice might be for you. Directors Catalina Hernández and Rafael Martínez don’t apply melodrama with an aggressive touch; the series’ intimate cinematography, appealing set design, and committed actors borrow the expected shades of a well-funded drama. Yet its tone also plays into that exaggerated soapy style through intensely emotional roller coasters, pointed needle drops that are overdramatic enough to provoke a giggle or two, and the ludicrous circumstances and plot twists.
Likewise, Just Alice keeps its finger on the adult rom-com pulse. The first five episodes reveal how Alicia’s men enter the picture, and the meet-cute formulas don’t miss a beat; one relationship starts hot and heavy while the other leans into emotional yearning. As for the steam levels, Just Alice might rival Outlander quite yet, but it offers no shortage of explicitly passionate encounters. Meanwhile, montages where Alicia juggles her commitments lightly pull from spy and heist films — elaborate handwritten planning, alibis, schedules, separate messages, costume changes, and swapping her two wedding rings. The more lies Alicia invents, the easier they roll off her tongue.
Underneath this enjoyable romp lies a quietly developing dramatic tension. Just Alice explicitly spells out its themes and the characters’ internal motivations, but the subtler underlying concerns include accountability, regret, and unresolved hurt about mistakes made in the heat of passion or fear, what we value enough to commit ourselves to, and what we sacrifice for those decisions. There’s also, of course, the unavoidable thorn surrounding the morality of bigamy and adultery. Frankly put, this premise wouldn’t be sexy or entertaining if the genders were reversed. Fiction needs more morally gray women, and through that lens, Alicia’s mistakes are refreshing to witness; her gender renders the concept aesthetically enjoyable but doesn’t absolve her refusal to deny her dual wants or inform her beaus about the other. These aren’t open relationships or consensual polyamory; her husbands practice and expect monogamy. As fated as both romances seem, this untenable infidelity is destined to implode. How much pain will Alicia’s desire to “have it all” cause those caught in the crossfire?
Yet Alicia also knows the sting of being disregarded. Because she’s been unlucky in both familial and romantic love, her self-proclaimed abandonment issues respond — perhaps too eagerly — to anyone who extends her affection. As she weeps to Susana in a flashback, “I don’t understand why they all disappear.” It’s possible she stays with Alejo and Pablo to prevent spreading that same pain. If there are moments Alicia is a difficult heroine to root for, that’s part of the juicy drama. Orozco’s calibrated and flexible performance offers a compelling lead — a 40-something woman who’s frequently confused, confused, and guilt-ridden, yet energetically comedic, a loyal friend, and a determined, fast-thinking intellect who impulsively follows her heart into impending disaster.
Thanks to both couples’ sizzling and sentimental chemistry, Alicia and Alejo’s connection is worth rallying behind as much as Alicia and Pablo’s contrasting circumstances. Hopefully, this journey leads to a happy throuple, but in all likelihood, audiences will either share Alicia’s indecision or staunchly cheer on their chosen team. That said, Just Alice’s full ensemble shares superb chemistry. Her small, tight-knit friend group, as structurally important to one another’s lives as their ill-begotten romantic entanglements, hits all the right rom-com beats. Orozco and Camelo, in particular, nail their characters’ fast-chattering rapport and their mutually steadfast support as much as they do the arguments over selfish oversights, poorly timed jokes, and brutal honesty. Susana practically steals the show as the sensible, exasperated best friend archetype who — as rescuer and defender — can’t hold down a job because she’s too busy talking Alicia out of her blunders. If Alicia overcommits in the love department, then Susana’s whirling fears reject commitment — even though she keeps breaking her own heart.
Five episodes out of 19 make it difficult to judge whether Just Alice concisely accomplishes its endgame. This opening salvo, however, is packed full of equal parts plot and charm. Between the love triangle dynamics and Alicia’s turbulent professional life, every 40-minute installment breezes past. Just Alice boasts enough potential to lift its guilty pleasure entertainment value into a more sophisticated piece on marriage and gender — as long as the series’ promising start carries its strengths through to the end.
