The story opens with Inés, a woman whose life stopped fifteen years earlier when she killed her husband after learning of his betrayal. Stepping back into public life feels quiet and unsettling. Buenos Aires greets her as both familiar and altered, a city that kept moving while she served her sentence. Her anchor in this changed world is Manca, someone she met in prison.
Their connection comes from the loyalty formed through shared hardship and the unspoken rules of survival. Together they start a fumigation business, riding through different neighborhoods in a battered pickup truck, spraying for pests. The job becomes a practical lifeline, tying their past selves to the immediate need to pay rent, eat, and keep going.
The plot turns when Susana, a wealthy client, recognizes Inés. Susana sees a use for her and offers a large amount of money, asking Inés to secure a rare poison so she can kill her own unfaithful husband. The offer pulls Inés toward the very danger she has tried to leave behind, placing her newly regained freedom at risk.
At the same time, Manca faces a medical emergency after finding a lump in her breast, and the biopsy cost sits far beyond what they can afford. Inés carries a deep sense of obligation to Manca, who gave her work and a place to live. She faces a stark decision about returning to crime to help the person who helped her survive outside prison.
The Weight of Loyalty and Performance
The series finds its emotional force in the dynamic between Carla Peterson and Nancy Dupláa. Peterson plays Inés with tight control, building a portrait of a woman who stays braced for impact. She moves through public spaces with a brittle caution, as if one wrong glance could undo her.
The performance captures the fatigue of self-reinvention, the strain of trying to build a future while a past sentence follows her into every room. Peterson keeps her choices small and precise: tension shows in a held shoulder, a measured pause, a voice that stops short of comfort. The effect fits the character’s reality, a life shaped by memory and by other people’s refusal to forget.
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Dupláa, as Manca, gives the duo its pragmatic pulse. She carries a plainspoken directness that keeps their days from drifting into panic. Manca understands the daily math of survival, yet she still has room for empathy, and that balance makes her more than a tough companion archetype.
Their chemistry becomes the show’s signature, recalling the friendships often found in Indian parallel cinema, where solidarity is forged through labor, pressure, and shared risk. Osqui Guzmán brings steady grounding as Rody, Manca’s brother. He moves through the stress of a struggling business with quiet dignity, keeping scenes from sliding into performative misery. Together, the three create a household that feels lived-in, shaped by working-class routines and the constant awareness that stability can vanish fast.
Symbolic Layers and Narrative Choices
The series’ visual and structural decisions give it a distinctive identity within crime storytelling. The direction leans into a hazy, vintage look that favors natural light, giving the episodes a tactile texture. That softened image does double duty: it lends the fumigation routes a near-dreamlike quality while underlining how time blurs, stretches, and returns in fragments. The narrative follows a non-linear design that mirrors memory, withholding and releasing information in a pattern that feels like recollection rather than exposition.
A major structural swing arrives in the third episode, which steps away from the present to focus entirely on the lead-up to the original murder. It provides clarity about Inés’s past through sustained attention rather than rushed flashbacks or explanatory dialogue. Another recurring device is Inés’s voice-over, which uses fly metaphors to frame human behavior. The repetition may stand out, yet it also functions as access to her inner logic, a way of showing how she reads her own life through instinct, compulsion, and damage.
The symbolism points toward an idea the series keeps pressing: environments shape behavior, and people can feel as trapped as the insects Inés spends her days exterminating. The pacing supports that thought. Long silences linger, inviting the viewer to watch faces settle, routines repeat, and dread gather slowly. Tension comes from anticipation and from the creeping awareness that every decision leaves a mark.
Landscapes of Class and Gendered Survival
Buenos Aires is filmed with a grounded plainness that refuses romance. The city’s edges look worn and inhabited, a visual match for the economic pressure weighing on the protagonists. That setting matters because it frames the narrow choices offered to people pushed to the margins by the legal system.
The story keeps returning to women building their own survival networks in a society that readily controls them or looks past them. Class disparity sharpens through Susana, whose wealth gives her the power to treat Inés as an instrument for revenge. The conflict sits in that imbalance: desperation becomes something the rich can purchase, and consequence feels distant for the buyer.
Inés’s emotional aftershocks also surface through her connection to her estranged adult daughter. The relationship underscores what her release cannot restore: lost time, ruptured trust, and the awkward reality of returning to a family that learned to live without her. The series presents change as slow work that never fully escapes history.
It approaches its characters with respect, paying attention to ordinary details and small routines to build credibility. Redemption, here, reads as difficult and incomplete, shaped by a world that keeps people assigned to their old roles. The strongest thread is the way women hold each other up when formal support systems fail, turning survival into something shared, sustained through loyalty, labor, and constant negotiation with risk.
Time Flies premiered on January 1, 2026. The production is currently available on the Netflix platform. This Argentine series brings the stories of author Claudia Piñeiro to the screen. It follows two women as they attempt to live outside of prison walls. Viewers can watch the full season on Netflix now. The show provides a grounded look at loyalty and the price of past choices.
Full Credits
Title: Time Flies
Distributor: Netflix
Release date: January 1, 2026
Rating: TV-MA
Running time: 30 minutes
Director: Ana Katz, Benjamín Naishtat
Writers: Gabriela Larralde, Nicolás Diodovich, Leandro Custo
Producers and Executive Producers: Vanessa Ragone, Mónica D’Uva
Cast: Carla Peterson, Nancy Dupláa, Valeria Lois, Osqui Guzmán, Jimena Anganuzzi, Diego Velázquez, Carlos Belloso, Julia Dorto, Diego Cremonesi
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Manuel Rebella, Yarará Rodríguez
Editors: María Astrauskas, Andrés Quaranta
Composer: Christian Basso, Carlos Lucero, Leo Sujatovich
The Review
Time Flies
Time Flies offers a patient look at life after prison. It avoids flashy action. It focuses on a deep friendship. The acting from Peterson and Dupláa is strong. It captures the difficulty of escaping the past. The slow pace might feel long for some people. Still, the technical skill and the real feel of Buenos Aires make it a solid choice. It is a quiet study of survival and hard choices.
PROS
- Strong acting from the lead actresses.
- Grounded and realistic setting.
- Visual style stands out from other series.
- Realistic focus on female friendship.
CONS
- The pace is very slow for a crime story.
- The metaphors in the voice over are repetitive.
- The criminal plot feels messy at times.
