When Greatness is Right Within Reach

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Summer of 2025 was either the best or worst time for a show about the Olympics. Paris is firmly in the rear view, LA is still three years away (for those who actually want to see it happen) and the next time the cauldron is lit it’ll be in celebration of none of the sports that take place in a pool or on an un-iced outdoor track. Yet, maybe it’s because of that relative drought that the Netflix series “Olympo” works as either a kind of fictional stopgap or fuel for the protest fire, depending on your relationship to all-consuming global competitions. 

Over eight episodes, the first season of “Olympo” follows the upper echelon of amateur athletes preparing themselves to be parts of their chosen sport’s Spanish national team. Part campus drama, part sports cautionary tale, part criticism of the athletic endorsement industrial complex, “Olympo” paints a teen soap TV sheen on a story that often feels familiar but has the characters to get a leg up on some of its sports peers. 

Though, it makes less sense to put “Olympo” on the spectrum of sports dramas than it does to put it in the recent tradition of shows built around shared obsessive pursuit of a single goal. Where other shows might dabble in high-level stock trading (“Industry”), the dying blogosphere (“The Bold Type”) or recreational drug use in between English and pre-algebra (“Euphoria”), the main goal of the athletes of “Olympo” is competitive superiority. 

The dozens of trainees make their home in the Pyrenees High Performance Center (HPC), where they’re isolated and put through a detailed regiment in pursuit of their chosen goals. For Amaia (Clara Galle), that means dominating the water as she all but demands one of the spots in Spain’s main artistic swimming duo. For Roque (Agustín Della Corte), it’s being the potential standout on the national rugby team, with the World Cup fast approaching. And for newcomer Zoe (Nira Osahia), it’s using her track and field prowess to outrun the recent tragedy still lodged in her consciousness no matter how many different ways she tries to push it out.

Maybe the most interesting part of “Olympo” (and why the sequences of these athletes doing what they do best are always engaging but do drag a tiny bit by season’s end) is that this is not really a show about sports after all. If anything, it almost works better as an extended metaphor for the entertainment industry at large, with the breakout stars of the future gathered in one place and drilled on how to be icons. It’s not the studio system, it’s not the giant collection of Mickey Mouse Club-esque stables of young teenagers churning out shows for basic cable/streaming movies for platforms. But there is something in “Olympo” that looks at how an unhealthy level of specialization does zap some of the elements of getting to have “normal” teen/young adult years. 

It’s no surprise then that “Olympo” gets an extra jolt of electricity in the moments when it does let these athletes act like rowdy youngsters and not just be cogs in a machine. The HPC kids take refuge throughout the season at a cabin (yes, in the woods) near the campus. It makes sense for them to have a place to slink away whenever they need a small-scale rebellious reset, and it’s also convenient for the show to indulge in some standard university hangout sequences. High performance almost necessitates some off-the-clock release.

Though that does happen under the roof of the training center as well. “Olympo” has its share of dorm room hookups and steam room hookups and locker room hookups. Romance is one of the more compelling aspects of “Olympo,” primarily because the way these athletes live their life leaves little room for little else. Some of the pairings don’t make sense at first but then you remember these characters are all incredible-looking people operating at the top of their respective fields, filled with aggressive hormones they have to throw in some direction. These sequences bring the same kind of visual style that blankets the sports action scenes: appreciation of bodies being used, even if the show often feels allergic to holding on a single shot for more than a second and a half. 

When the focus turns to the field, there’s an added element of actually watching gifted athletes do their job. When they’re exerting themselves, it’s fair (and invited) to judge them against their sporting peers rather than the relative work of their acting ones. When Zoe and her track compatriots are running distances of any length, you can see Osahia push herself the way you’d imagine Zoe would, too. 

The series’ most compelling performances come from those who can bring that same ability and intensity to the acting side, too. Galle is every bit the alpha that this series needs. From her first time in the pool, paired with the reaction of those around her, Amaia earns her spot on the top of the poster mountain. As Roque faces internalized homophobia from most of his teammates and coaches, Della Corte balances the on-field confidence of a world-class athlete with the off-field reluctance to grab any share of the spotlight. 

“Olympo” does get less sharp the further it strays from those putting their athletic careers on the line. The secretive, Nike-ish sports brand that gives the show its title is a constant cloud hovering over the HPC. To be an Olympo athlete means being part of a national and international campaign, complete with expectations that are unfair no matter the perks that come with it. Without getting into what strings might come attached to that kind of fame (though you probably have a good idea what they are), there’s a darkness that spreads through “Olympo” once the show sets all its pieces in motion. 

It’s through that subplot that “Olympo” also inches toward mystery thriller territory, too. Whether that’s as much of a distraction to the show as it is to the athletes’ training regimen is up to the viewer. Any future seasons would benefit from more sequences built around getting the whole HPC team together, rather than simply switching the roster around in a revolving door of romantic and platonic pairs. 

If the initial driving force of “Olympo” is watching what internationally renowned athletes do when they’re all trapped in a kind of one-nation Olympic Village, the show does demonstrate a willingness to move beyond that basic premise. It’s essentially a college show that doesn’t have to stick to classes, or at least one where the eventual promise is that anyone who survives long enough is guaranteed to study abroad. Like all intro courses, there’s plenty of the basics here, but there’s also new material left to explore. 

“Olympo” is streaming now on Netflix.