Unspeakable Sins Review: Glamour and guilt fuel this Netflix erotic thriller, but there’s not much more to it

Netflix’s ‘Unspeakable Sins’ (Pecados Inconfesables) has all the ingredients of a gripping thriller—wealth, betrayal, sex, and a sudden disappearance.

‘Unspeakable Sins,’ jointly directed by Pablo Ambrosini and Felipe Aguiler, was released on 30th July on Netflix and stars Zuria Vega, Andres Baida, Erik Hayser, Manuel Masalva, and Ana Sofia Gatica.

All style, little bite

Netflix’s ‘Unspeakable Sins’ (Pecados Inconfesables) has all the ingredients of a gripping thriller—wealth, betrayal, sex, and a sudden disappearance. But what unfolds over 18 long episodes is a sluggish, overly serious melodrama that rarely lives up to its own promise. The series follows Helena (Zuria Vega), a high-profile CEO in a toxic marriage to the controlling Claudio (Erik Hayser).

She begins an affair with a younger man, Ivan (Andres Baida), hoping for escape. When her husband vanishes, suspicion lands squarely on her. The setup is juicy enough, but the show doesn’t know how to handle its material. It positions itself like a prestige drama but behaves like a daytime soap—with neither the wit nor the daring to fully embrace either.

A plot that stalls more than it simmers

There’s a difference between slow-burn and slow-moving—and ‘Unspeakable Sins’ too often slides into the latter. It leans heavily on silence and brooding stares, mistaking atmosphere for tension. Key story beats are hinted well in advance, and by the time they arrive, they land with a dull thud.

The mystery around Claudio’s disappearance could have served as a sharp pivot point, but instead it drifts, weighed down by flashbacks, red herrings, and side characters who rarely feel like more than devices. The show keeps circling the same emotional ground without deepening it. Eighteen episodes feels wildly excessive for a story that could’ve been told—better—in eight.

Performances can’t save flat writing

Zuria Vega tries hard to anchor the show. She brings a quiet dignity to Helena and handles the emotional restraint of the character with care, even if the writing doesn’t give her much to work with. Andres Baida plays Ivan with the right amount of mystery, but the chemistry never quite sparks. Erik Hayser has a strong presence in the early episodes, but his role diminishes just as things are meant to get interesting. The rest of the cast feels underused, often reduced to voicing suspicion or pushing exposition. There’s a lack of lived-in relationships here—characters don’t grow or shift in compelling ways. Everyone seems stuck in their assigned role.

Looks good, says little

There’s no denying the show is visually polished. The sleek interiors, dramatic lighting, and soft-focus sensuality are all carefully curated. But the style rarely serves the story. The sex scenes, while frequent, often feel gratuitous—inserted more for shock or aesthetics than emotional development. And while the show gestures toward important themes like emotional abuse, gendered control, and class privilege, it only ever skims the surface. Everything feels muted—no sharp edge, no real risk. For a series about taboo desires and dark secrets, ‘Unspeakable Sins’ plays things surprisingly safe. It wants to titillate and provoke but ends up feeling bland.

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Too long, too flat, too forgettable

There’s a much tighter, more effective show buried somewhere in ‘Unspeakable Sins’—one with sharper writing, fewer episodes, and a willingness to lean into either its pulpy roots or psychological ambitions. But this version is stuck in limbo, too restrained to be trashy fun and too thin to be genuinely gripping. It lingers on trauma and power games without really saying anything new about either. By the final stretch, the twists feel tired, the characters exhausted, and the viewer—likely—ready to move on. Netflix has delivered some solid thrillers in this space before. This just isn’t one of them.Rating: 2/5