I went into Smiley thinking it’d be just another cheesy gay holiday rom-com—but what I got was surprisingly real, hilariously petty, and at times, painfully honest. From a misfired voicemail to that absurdly chaotic four-way dinner, this show took every trope in the book and somehow made it feel fresh.
I laughed at their ego battles, cringed at their emotional immaturity, and still found myself rooting for Bruno and Álex—two idiots who needed eight episodes and a dozen bad decisions to admit they liked each other. It’s flawed, messy, way too dramatic… and I loved every second of it.
Smiley Official Trailer
Smiley Summary | |
|---|---|
| Title: | Smiley |
| Series Info: | Spain (2022) |
| Length: | 35 minutes |
| Total Episodes: | 8 Episodes |
| Genre: | Romance, Boy's love |
Plot
Álex is freshly heartbroken and furious, so he records a cathartic voice message meant for his ex. Instead, the message ends up in the inbox of Bruno, a quiet, movie-loving architect. From this accidental connection begins a love story driven by pure coincidence and pure chaos.
Over eight episodes, we follow their not-so-straight path toward each other—two men with nothing in common except mutual attraction and emotional stubbornness. Alongside them are friends, coworkers, exes, and new lovers who all bring their own color and weight to this bittersweet holiday-timed rom-com.
Smiley Cast
Charactor
Álex is a charming bartender, emotionally impulsive and physically irresistible, who masks vulnerability with sarcasm and bravado.
Carlos Cuevas
Carlos Cuevas (b. 1995) is one of Spain’s most beloved queer screen actors, best known for Merlí and Smiley. Here, he brings unexpected tenderness to what could’ve been a shallow role—balancing sex appeal with emotional self-sabotage.
Bruno is an introverted architect who loves cinema and literature, struggles with self-worth, and overthinks everything—especially love.
Miki Esparbé
Miki Esparbé (b. 1983) brings subtle charisma to the role, perfectly capturing the soft panic of someone scared to be seen. His performance is both grounded and full of slow-burn desire. A lesser actor might have made Bruno boring—Esparbé makes him unforgettable.
Supporting Cast
Ramon
Ramon Pujol
Javier
Pepón Nieto
Director
David Martín Porras & Marta Pahissa
Smiley is co-directed by David Martín Porras and Marta Pahissa, who manage to blend traditional rom-com structure with the energy and chaos of modern queer dating. Their direction shines in moments of contrast—using symmetry, split screens, and quiet frames to reflect the internal storms of its characters. Both bring theater-rooted instincts to the screen, honoring the play’s origins while opening it up to a richer, more cinematic experience.
Smiley Review
Review
I honestly started Smiley thinking it’d be just another fluffy holiday romance: some wine, some kissing, and probably a breakup before a happy airport reunion. And sure—it had all of that. But what caught me off guard was how real it felt underneath the clichés.
Yes, it’s dramatic and occasionally over-the-top—this is Spanish TV, after all—but the characters are flawed in ways that hit home. Bruno and Álex aren’t just opposites; they’re almost parodies of queer archetypes. Álex is the charming, muscular, hookup-hardened gym boy. Bruno is the bookish, anxious, emotionally repressed cinephile. When they meet, it’s not fireworks—it’s a fight.
Their chemistry is slow-burning, messy, frustrating—and that’s exactly why I bought it. The show doesn’t rely on “we have so much in common!” Instead, it asks: can you fall for someone who’s nothing like you? Can you make it work with someone who constantly pushes your buttons?
What I loved most was how the series portrays desire not as a neat emotional arc, but as something uneven and selfish and brave. Álex and Bruno both make terrible choices, hurt people who loved them, and walk away from stable relationships just to chase something that might not even work. It’s infuriating. And it’s honest.
The side stories—Ramón’s quiet yearning, Vero and Patri’s unraveling, and the older gay couples dealing with loneliness—add emotional depth that most rom-coms ignore. Smiley made me laugh, made me cringe, made me angry, and made me believe again in coincidences that feel like fate.
Best Scenes of Smiley
Episode 8 – The Voicemail That Changed Everything
Álex finally decides to lower his defenses and sends Bruno a heartfelt voicemail from the back of a cab on his way to the airport. It’s a parallel to the mistaken voicemail that began their story—only this time, it’s intentional. Bruno listens, tears in his eyes, and rushes out to catch him.
The final scene, set under a warm streetlight as traffic hums in the background, shows the two men reconnecting in a long-awaited kiss. It’s cheesy. It’s overdone. It works.
But what truly elevates this moment is the split-screen technique used throughout the series, finally resolving as their paths merge. Two lonely men in parallel lives, finally crossing into each other’s world.
Smiley Information
Where to Watch
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