‘All the Truth in My Lies’ (2026) Netflix Series Review - Secrets, Betrayals, and Little Else

You must be aware of that love-triangle trope where a boy and a girl intensely love each other but don't confess their true feelings or try to keep their distance from each other because they don't want to hurt the boy's ex-girlfriend, who's clearly not over the breakup. That ex always gets jealous when the boy and the girl laugh, smile, and have a good time together, so she comes up with different ways to separate them. That ex, in All the Truth in My Lies, is Aroa (Lucía de la Fuente), the boy is Marin (Daniel Ibáñez), and the girl is Coco (Itziar Manero). Aroa and Marin were initially a couple, but then Coco entered their lives as their roommate, and later, Marin and Coco grew close to one another. No wonder Marin and Aroa broke up, though All the Truth in My Lies still tries to sell the notion that there is another reason behind their breakup. There are secrets, all right, but nothing so drastic or shocking that you can't guess them simply by looking at the characters. Everything is written on their faces; you have to be blind to miss all the signs that practically call attention to themselves.

Nonetheless, the series keeps its cards close to its chest, which is why you stay with it until the end. What could possibly be so damaging that Aroa is able to blackmail Marin into spending time with her? Why does Marin remain so secretive about his reason for breaking up with Aroa? If there is anything beyond the obvious clues littered everywhere, by all means, please blow my mind. The show, however, doesn't blow your mind. The secrets, when they come tumbling out one after another, are far from surprising or interesting, for that matter. Most of them deal with people sleeping with someone else, while the other so-called complications aren't so serious that they can't be resolved through level-headed, five-minute conversations. These characters are supposed to be adults, though they behave like high-school teenagers. "That's all there is to them?" you ask yourself, baffled. Even if one were to put aside the triviality of the revelations, how can one justify the fact that the series doesn't conjure an uneasy, apprehensive atmosphere after everything has been laid bare?

The drama, alas, is dramaless. What you get instead is more scenes of Marin trying to keep Coco at a distance. He is such a coward, and an irritating one at that. I wanted to scream at Coco to block him from her life, and I wanted to tell Aroa that it's futile to fawn over this wimp—he is a fool, a craven. Then again, maybe all these personality-free cardboard cutouts deserve to be with each other. Among the friends, only Loren (Brays Efe) comes across as cool and admirable. He stays away from stupidity, enjoys lying idly in the sand, and possibly has the best time during the bachelorette excursion. When everybody on the beach plays volleyball, Loren simply stands in his position using his phone, uninterested in exerting himself physically in the warm weather. Loren knows how to keep other people's secrets, and he generally acts very fabulous. If he had been a fluffy cat or a lazy dog, I would have instantly identified him as my spirit animal. But even this cute spirit animal wouldn't have been able to mask the high dose of creative bankruptcy here. The series, with Netflix as its patron, just takes a bunch of people on vacation and then asks them to stretch out a thin trope for long enough that it can be edited into a five-episode project for its sponsor. For the cast and crew, it's a nice, convenient way to boost their bank balance. For a viewer, however, it's definitely a chore to sit through such uninspired content.