Bella Ciao and the Camaraderie of Plunder
It is such a powerful anthem, that it almost makes me want to leave my studies, take up the rifle and join a Bernie Sanders rally. The interspersed singing and dancing scenes strike just the right balance between American stoicism and Bollywood inanity.

Money Heist. A testament to plausible impossibility and a steady drip of strategic twists that makes it a consistent delight throughout. There is some candid and extremely post-PC advice doled out by some of the seasoned elders on the show to the young lovers that is actually worthy of some contemplation. And there are moments in the ensemble that reach levels of personal catharsis that rival even The Breakfast Club (and that is high praise!), as each character reckons with their emotional pain in the crucible of unimaginable stress and jubilant elation.
Most intriguing, to me, anyway, is the speedy reconciliation between the characters after often murderous conflicts. I don't know how realistic this if for people who didn't grow up in dysfunctional homes (haven't met that many) or in catholic Europe where communal structures are much more resilient than in the coastal US (and finding a control group of bank robbers led by a benevolently diabolical genius may be hard to come by), but at the very least I find it an inspiring model of how people can work through their problems with the people they love even under extraordinary duress.
Anyway, most of my experience with Spanish film has been through the colorful but invariably disturbing (and sloppy and meandering and incessantly agenda driven) works of Almodovar. And in general, I have to say that most European artwork (post-Mahler) from the 20th century, when I used to at least want to try to like it, completely sucks. But how far we have come where The House of Cards, er "Paper" delights every bit as much as a made in the USA offering, with only a few cultural quirks sticking in your craw to remind you you're still dealing with "exotic" fare. Even the Spanish poster-propaganda aesthetic supports the overall ethos rather than conveying a nationalist watermark for its own sake. And we even have ingenious plot twists, whereas Spain's Gallic neighbors can hardly be bothered with a plot at all.
The truly inhuman (yet completely believable) machinations of the government, particularly in season 3, make it a fantastic villain. And this is the first movie I've ever seen that openly addresses (at least somewhat) the evils of Keynsian "quantitative easing" fiscal policy, though with a Spanish flair for redistributive communism, that fortunately never bubbles too close to the surface. These aren't Franco's rebels, but they are certainly their kissing cousins. And I don't think I have ever seen a more despicable character than the duplicitous, opportunistic, yet reliably cowardly "Arturito". His reinvention as a motivational speaker in Season 3 was a stroke of pure genius, and even (or perhaps especially) with the overdubbing, you walk away from each of his scenes needing to take a shower and wash behind your ears to get the cooties out. The result of this mashup, of course, is a morality play that is unconventional and yet immensely satisfying. Everyone loves a hero-villain, but the flawed, yet genuine humanness of the "gang" offset by the sellout conformity of the reigning culture makes them that much easier to root for.
And finally, though populist revolutionary songs tend to terrify me (anything beyond Yankee Doodle Dandy brings back some horrible DNA imprints), the joyous "Bella Ciao" is such a powerful anthem, that it almost makes me want to leave my studies, take up the rifle and join a Bernie Sanders rally. The interspersed singing and dancing scenes strike just the right balance between American stoicism and Bollywood inanity. It almost hearkens back to the good old days of Hollywood before MTV splintered off to pump and dump the music video as its own one-trick-genre. The celebratory spirit of the choral camaraderie enhances the plot seamlessly without pandering in any way for ribaldrous diversion.
So I'm pleased that someone mentioned to me that I look like one of the characters in the show (NB: I don't) and nudged me to give it a second shot after I gave up on the subtitled version two years ago. Kudos to Netflix for keeping the quality content coming and setting a standard for art that will challenge future generations of filmmakers and give audiences something to chew on for decades to come. Money Heist hits well above its weight and should deliver some far reaching value to caper fans the world over.