Le Jeu de l'échelle

This series is one of the new genre of Mexican mini-soaps, like House of Flowers. Even though it uses many of the same actors to portray similar quirky characters, it is nowhere as good as House of Flowers or any of the others from the same writer and Director. The audio track is poor and the dialog is difficult to hear. The humor falls flat and the story just seems to be a silly one. It needs more meat on the bones as there's barely a story here!

I only became familiar with Cecilia Suarez and Juan Pablo Medina, in La Casa de las Flores, possibly the series which in my opinion formally introduced Mexican productions to the rest of world, especially to us here in South Africa.

Seeing Cecilia Suarez and Juan Pablo Medina working together again since House of Flowers was well needed!

The producers of Snakes and Ladders, went and added Marimar Vega! I only recently started seeing her work too. Pact of Silence!

3 powerhouse performers. I think that the production team have gone and created, thee Dream Team!!

We need more from them!

I will definitely be hoping for a second season!!

The series is a kind of audiovisual salad: it kicks off with a premise that very suspiciously recalls Le Dieu du carnage, which Roman Polanski adapted for the screen in 2011 as Carnage. Its aesthetic and characters feel like the offspring of an unlikely Wes Anderson-Pedro Almodóvar collaboration-especially channeling the madcap spirit of Almodóvar's Los Amantes Pasajeros. Yes, it's entertaining... until it isn't. By the end, the tone shifts so abruptly that the final episode feels ripped straight from Luis Estrada's personal archives-pamphleteering included. It's as if the first few chapters were built with genuine care, only to tumble headlong into a forced, hurried conclusion.

Sometimes, my heart wants something exciting and fun-no serious drama or deep thinking, just happy times. That's what "Snakes and Ladders" on Netflix is all about. This show is a lovely way to relax, wrapping the audience in comfort like a warm blanket and telling you, "Don't worry, this is just going to be fun!" I adore watching it in Spanish. The Mexican comedic style is perfectly executed, and the cast is very good. If you don't speak Spanish, don't worry-it's dubbed and subtitled in multiple languages.

"Snakes and Ladders" is genuinely entertaining. Picture adult insecurities, awkward dynamics, and ambitions in a vibrant cocktail and served with a knowing wink. That's the essence of the show.

If life has been overwhelmingly serious, like every moment is laden with existential questions, consider "Snakes and Ladders" your ticket to unwind and simply laugh. It is the ultimate form of escapism; sometimes, that is all your soul yearns for.

Snakes and Ladders is not just another series. It is a daring exploration of ambition, betrayal, and human complexity delivered through the vivid lens of Manolo Caro, whose visual and narrative style reaches new heights in this extraordinary production.

But what elevates Snakes and Ladders from brilliant to unforgettable is the tour de force performance of Luis Felipe Tovar. His portrayal is nothing short of magnificent. Tovar brings to life a character that is equal parts vulnerable, cunning, charismatic, and broken. Every glance, every pause, every explosion of emotion feels deeply lived-in, never performed. This is an actor in full command of his instrument, delivering what may very well be one of the best performances of his career.

Caro's direction is fearless. He weaves a multi-layered tale that manages to be both intimate and operatic. The script is sharp, with dialogue that cuts deep and lingers. The cinematography is lush and symbolic, using color and framing to evoke the dizzying highs and crushing lows of the game that is life - or survival - for these characters.

The ensemble cast is equally remarkable. There is no weak link. Each actor adds a distinct energy to the puzzle, contributing to the series' tightly woven emotional tapestry. Special mentions go to whose chemistry with Tovar is electric and unforgettable.

There is elegance in the chaos, poetry in the pain. The series doesn't just entertain - it challenges. It reflects back to the audience the cost of power, the fragility of loyalty, and the unpredictable nature of fate, like the very game that gives the series its name.

If you are looking for something that is visually arresting, emotionally resonant, and superbly acted, Snakes and Ladders is a must-watch. And if you are a fan of Luis Felipe Tovar, this is your moment to witness a master at the height of his artistic powers.

Bravo to Manolo Caro and the entire team. This is television elevated to art.