Olympo (2025) is hot. Like, sweat-through-your-tank-top hot. The cast is ridiculously attractive, the lighting is golden and glowy, and every episode looks like a perfume ad with a minor plotline tacked on. Spain really went all in on the “sexy myth retelling” genre, and on paper, Olympo should be this summer’s must-watch. But then you watch it—four sex scenes in the first episode alone—and suddenly you’re just… tired.
Not morally outraged. Not scandalized. Just bored.
That’s the thing. Gen Z isn’t freaking out over nudity—we just kind of... don’t care? We grew up on the internet, where everything is a click away. So a show throwing bodies at the screen like it's 2005 HBO doesn’t feel edgy anymore. It feels lazy.
And that’s the problem with Olympo: it thinks “hot” is enough. It’s got sculpted gods and goddesses in silk robes moaning their way through shallow storylines. It’s all visual, no soul. The sex isn’t even sexy—it’s choreographed, drawn-out, and disconnected from the plot. By episode two, it’s less “steamy” and more like background noise. Gen Z doesn’t mind sex in shows—we just want it to mean something. At the very least, be part of character development or emotional stakes. Not just filler between montages of people licking honey off each other.
This isn’t a Gen Z purity thing. We’re not prudes. We just want more from our stories. We want character arcs, themes, emotional truth. Olympo offers none of that. It’s the cinematic version of a thirst trap—shiny, curated, forgettable.
And yeah, maybe it’s a cultural thing. In Spain, there’s clearly more appetite for shock value. It’s like every new series wants to out-sex the last one. But without strong writing, it just feels empty. Like someone dared the writers to make it “hornier” and they forgot to add, you know, actual stakes or world-building.
Honestly, it’s a little sad. Olympo could’ve been cool. Greek myths are full of political intrigue, betrayal, epic battles. Instead, we get a horny Zeus with great abs and zero depth. It’s all aesthetics, no substance. Gen Z grew up watching TV shows that balanced romance with tension, conflict, and emotional nuance. Now we’re supposed to sit through four hookup scenes per episode just because the leads are hot?
Pass.
Here’s the brutal truth: Gen Z is cold. We’re over it. Sexy for sexy’s sake just doesn’t cut it anymore. You want our attention? Write us something smart. Make us feel something. Make us care. Otherwise, we’ll swipe past you like a cringey thirst post on our FYP.
Hot people alone don’t make a hit show anymore.
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