Black Mirror remake set in Spain: dystopia, AI and political satire

Black Mirror remake: a dystopian Spain in 2030

A Spanish-language remake of the first episode of Black Mirror now has a title, year and country: 2027, Spain. Its synopsis sets the action in 2030, and it was not written by any production company but launched as a loose idea with a spoiler warning up front. The text has been built through replies, twists and a fact-checking correction that arrived before anything else.

The premise: an aesthetics brigade takes power after imposing an obsessive campaign against female body hair and leaves dissenters "rehabilitated, executed or used as slave labour". A group of six or seven resisters, hiding in the mountains, kidnaps the regime's leader to humiliate him live on television. The author himself laughs at how plausible the plan is: the leader brags about having an acompañante of eight people.

What is the first episode of Black Mirror?

The pig one. That is the first objection the project receives and, at the same time, proof that the reference is cited more for its fruta than from memory. The first episode of the British series is not about the subject that inspires this remake. Everything else is home-grown.

That is where the real interest of the proposal begins: it does not compete with the original fiction, it uses it as a wrapper. The recognisable shell serves to deliver a story of aesthetic subjugation that, without the label, would be read for what it is — a long joke with delusions of being a parable.

Can you shoot your own series with artificial intelligence?

In theory, yes. That is the answer the author gets when the joke meets the tool: "With AI you can probably make whatever you want", along with the immediate encouragement to move from the gag to actual production. From there, the catalogue everyone carries inside appears: a trilogy about the conquest of the New World, a series about the Reconquista, and a thriller about Franco that is not, in the words of the advice itself, a crude and ridiculous caricature.

The contrast reveals the heart of the matter. The same tool serves both grotesque nonsense and ambitious historical reconstruction, and in both cases the bottleneck is no longer the budget. What does not get cheaper is judgement: choosing what deserves two hours of screen time is still human work, even if someone else pays for the render.

The twist that turns the dictator into a deserter

The plot improves when internal politics enters. The most radical faction of the fictional regime believes its leader has betrayed its principles by refusing to extend the campaign to the rest of the continent. The kidnapping stops being the climax and becomes the trigger: the enemy is no longer in the mountains, but inside headquarters itself.

That move — from external enemy to internal schism — is what separates a dystopia with a hook from an overlong joke. It is also the point where satire stakes its licence: the more the invented regime resembles something recognisable, the easier it is to read as a pamphlet and the less as comedy.

With these pieces, the project brings together what makes a dystopia circulate: a recognisable premise, a clear-cut enemy and a twist that turns the dictator into a deserter from his own cause. Whether it ever gets made is another story. AI makes shooting cheaper; it does not cheapen the judgement of whoever decides what gets aired.