Dear Killer Nannies Review: A Gut-Punching Pablo Escobar Drama Through His Son's Eyes
You might think another television series about the infamous drug kingpin Pablo Escobar is unnecessary, given how thoroughly his life has been explored in popular culture. Escobar's murderous Medellín cartel dominated the 1980s and 1990s, yet this century alone, his story has inspired countless books, Hollywood films, the Netflix hit Narcos, and even Kanye West's 2016 album Life of Pablo. However, the new Spanish language series Dear Killer Nannies, co-created by Escobar's own son Juan Pablo Escobar, finds a startlingly original and unexpected angle into the life of this archetypal villain.
A Coming-of-Age Story Amid Chaos
Rather than retreading the familiar beats of Escobar's rise, fall, and eventual death in a shootout with Colombian special forces, Dear Killer Nannies centers on seven-year-old Juan Pablo, affectionately known as "Juampi." Juampi is portrayed as sweet, sensitive, and soft-edged—a typical boy before exposure to patriarchy's ravages. The series opens with a serene scene of Juampi bobbing in a lake, basking in the sun, only for a speedboat to zoom dangerously toward him, causing panic before swerving away at the last second. This moment introduces his "nannies," associates of his father who double as childcare while Pablo attends to cartel business abroad.
What unfolds is a narrative far more focused on emotional development than action. While Juampi is exposed to murder, violence, sex, and rampant drug use—and struggles to connect with peers—the show delves deep into the psychological impact of these experiences. It's not just about shock value; it's about how trauma shapes a person. This approach echoes the emotional depth of The Sopranos, emphasizing the psychic toll of chaos over mere spectacle.
The Emotional Core of Trauma and Adultification
In the first episode's climax, Juampi accidentally witnesses a violent act against a cartel enemy, an event that would scar even a hardened veteran, let alone a child. Dear Killer Nannies doesn't stop at depicting the initial trauma. Instead, it shows how such instances haunt Juampi through flashbacks, nightmares, and bedwetting, gradually hardening him. A central tragedy unfolds as Juampi realizes his father is not the hero he imagined but a man responsible for thousands of murders.
The narration, voiced by Juan Pablo Escobar himself, adds a layer of reflection and intimacy, reminiscent of a therapy session. Themes of violence and trauma feel relatable to anyone with family histories marked by similar struggles. Juampi is told early on that "future is a word that doesn't mean a thing for people like us," emphasizing a day-to-day existence. He's also instructed to trust only family and tasked with being the "man of the house" during his parents' absences—a heavy burden for a seven-year-old. While extreme, his story resonates universally with the experience of being forced to grow up too fast.
Technical Brilliance and Performative Strength
Dear Killer Nannies excels technically and emotionally. Seamless jumps between Juampi's childhood, adolescence, and occasional adulthood build a grander narrative foundation. Moments of surprise and misdirection are sparing but powerful, enhancing the storytelling. The performances, particularly by child actor Miguel Tamayo as Juampi, are as sharp as the script, making the show's bite-size half-hour episodes easy to binge.
So, while we may not have needed another show about Escobar's violence, Dear Killer Nannies is fundamentally about Juampi—a child caught in the crossfire. It's an emotionally literate exploration of adultification, loss of innocence, masculinity, and trauma, experiences many can relate to in their own lives. Expect car crashes and shootouts, but the series' most gut-punching moments are quieter and bloodless, leaving a lasting impact.
Dear Killer Nannies is available for streaming on Disney+ now.
