Adult Swim is home to many hilarious surrealist adult animated projects, and their latest is a super queer stop-motion series inspired by the works and aesthetics of Pedro Almodóvar. Think of any Pedro Almodóvar movie you’ve seen — from Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown to All About My Mother — make it as silly as possible, and then you’d get Gonzalo Cordova’s hilarious and visually imaginative Women Wearing Shoulder Pads. The eight-episode, quarter-hour absurdist telenovela stop-motion series depicts a wealthy, self-centered, and philanthropic woman who asserts her power by emotionally exploiting the individuals in her vicinity. It’s as Adult Swim as you can get, laced with laugh-out-loud gags in both style and tone. It’s Spanish-language, a first for the Cartoon Network block, and it also features a plethora of cute guinea pigs.
In Quito, Ecuador, during the 1980s, Marioneta Negocios (Pepa Pallarés) is a wealthy, ruthless, and egotistical Spaniard who resides in the city with her right-hand Gabriela Cartol (Coquita). She is a producer of television PSA commercials that aim to convert cuyes (guinea pigs) from food to pets. Marioneta finds out that she has a new rival: Doña Quispe (Laura Torres), a former chef who is now the CEO of El Cuchillo, Ecuador’s most famous restaurant and home of the famous cuyes dish. In the series, cuyes are more than just food or pets; they are also bulls used for fighting, and one of Marioneta’s situationships, the butch and suave Espada (Kerygma Flores), is a cuy fighter.
Upon discovering Doña’s 12-year-old daughter, Nina Quispe (Nicole Vazquez), is a cuy activist and has a huge pet she uses like a horse, Marioneta attempts to use Nina to make her a star in her public service announcements.
Throughout her busy and messy lifestyle, Marioneta finds herself being stalked by a mysterious figure. The suspect list grows long as her inflated ego either ostracizes or emotionally manipulates the people in her life.
In a post-Emilia Perez world where a straight Frenchman was lauded for LGBTQ Latinx representation, Women Wearing Shoulder Pads arrives right on time to course-correct.
The series was made by Mexico City-based animation studio Cinema Fantasma, as opposed to Adult Swim’s frequent collaborator ShadowMachine (Robot Chicken, Shivering Truth, Moral Oral). I’m very familiar with Fantasma’s works (watch Frankelda on HBO MAX), as they are one of the best-looking stop-motion studios out there beyond Laikas, Shadowmachine, and Aardman. They pour so much stunning quality into each project, and Women Wearing Shoulder Pads is no exception. The series’ art direction recreates its Ecuadorian world with picturesque detailing in its background, character wardrobe, and design. Here, they pour exquisite detailing into body movement and mannerisms. I was truly astounded by this authenticity and attention to detail, especially considering this is all handcrafted. Plus, every furry guinea pig on display is cute as hell.
Part of the show’s greatest strength is its straightforward playing into its telenovela archetypes while retaining such a silly sense of humor. Gonzalo Cordova assembled many queer Hispanic comedic writers — including Francesca D’Uva and River L. Ramirez, to name a few — to work wonders, as the interplay between this familiar character study and comedy is well balanced. Many of its visual gags got a laugh out of me, particularly every live-action insert-shot of characters holding objects, only to cut it back to the stop-motion figurines. The hilarious, punchy dialogue and original songs also delight. The story it tells of Marioneta and her ego is well dissected and manages to genuinely surprise you in its narrative twists and turns, just like an Almodovar flick.
It also shares so much subversion across the board in its queer representation in terms of its characterization. Every character in its all-women ensemble is under the rainbow; sometimes it’s established out the gate, other times as a shocking reveal, and yet everyone is textured enough with dimension that you adore ’em all the same. My favorite happened to be Espada, who may be a suave cuy fighter in the ring but possesses the heart of a water sign out of it.
By the end of its rather short eight-episode run, I wanted much more of Women Wearing Shoulder Pads. It’s an absurdist riff on the conventions of Pedro Almodóvar movies while being a potent character study in of itself. These little wooden dolls and their adorable guinea pigs made me feel more than most shows I’ve seen this year.
