Vicky Mori vs. the Mirror: The Anatomy of Dissatisfaction and the Return of “Envious” to Netflix

In the vast and often generic contemporary streaming ecosystem, where algorithms dictate narrative arcs and characters are often designed in conference rooms to maximize global appeal, the arrival of Victoria “Vicky” Mori has been a seismic event in Argentine fiction. It’s rare to find a protagonist who isn’t looking to be saved, or even to be unconditionally loved by the audience, but rather to be validated in her worst instincts. Vicky is the antiheroine navigating the turbulent waters of her forties with a compass broken by social mandates, aesthetic pressure, and a desperate need for belonging.

As we approach the premiere of the third season of “Envious,” the Netflix series that has redefined Rioplatense dramedy, the cultural climate is one not just of expectation for plot resolutions, but of genuine anthropological curiosity about the psychological evolution of a woman who, by any logical standard, should be exhausting, yet remains profoundly human and magnetic.

The series, starring Griselda Siciliani in a state of grace, has established itself not merely as a comedy about jealousy, but as a forensic study of desire in the digital age. This production forces us to confront uncomfortable questions, the kind we usually avoid in our own therapy sessions: What happens when we finally get what we thought we so vehemently desired? Does the hunger for external validation ever stop? And, perhaps the most piercing question posed by this new installment: Can we truly be happy for others’ joy if we are unable to comfortably inhabit our own skin?

The upcoming season promises to peel back another layer of Vicky’s psyche, shifting the focus from the frenetic hunt for a husband to the much more subtle, and perhaps more insidious, terror of maintaining a life that looks perfect on Instagram but feels fragile in domestic reality. The audience is preparing to dive back into Vicky’s world, but the rules of the game have changed. The manic energy of the single woman racing against the biological and social clock has transmuted into the anxiety of the woman who has “arrived,” yet feels like an impostor in her own existence. This season is designed to be a masterclass in self-sabotage, a theme the series’ creators have handled with surgical wit and surprising tenderness in previous installments. What’s at stake is no longer loneliness, but authenticity.

The Architecture of Anxiety: A New Chapter

The upcoming narrative arc finds Vicky Mori in a theoretically enviable position, a bitter irony for a character defined, until now, by her emotional covetousness of what others have. According to official previews and information leaked from the production, Vicky seems to have checked all the boxes on that mental list that tortured her in past seasons. She has finally achieved her professional goal of graduating as an architect, a milestone that was long a source of insecurity and procrastination. Furthermore, her romantic life appears to have stabilized into a happy and steady relationship with Matías, played by the always stoic and charming Esteban Lamothe.

However, the writing team, led by the sharp pen of Carolina Aguirre, deeply understands that happiness is rarely a static state, especially for a character wired for conflict. The new season’s central conflict will not be the absence of success, but the panic of losing it. The official synopsis reveals that as Vicky’s desires evolve, so do her insecurities. The stability she yearned for now becomes fertile ground for new anxieties. She fears losing Matías, she fears the new reality she has built, and she fundamentally fears that her former self—chaotic, envious, dissatisfied—is simply lying in wait, ready to destroy this new facade of functional adulthood.

This narrative shift allows the series to explore a more mature, though equally chaotic, phase of life. It’s no longer about the hunt; it’s about the harvest, and the unsettling realization that the fruit may be heavier than expected. The introduction of disruptive elements like a “third party” and the looming shadow of a wedding suggests that external chaos will mirror Vicky’s internal whirlwind. In fact, the official trailer cruelly plays with the audience’s (and the protagonist’s) expectations: we see Vicky dressed in white, at what appears to be a wedding, only to cut to a therapy session where she herself declares that “being happy and getting married don’t go hand in hand.” The previews hint at emotional twists, misunderstandings, and the kind of cringeworthy social blunders that are the show’s trademark.

Impostor Syndrome in the “Perfect Life”

The dramatic tension of this new season seems to emanate from a deeply relatable place: impostor syndrome in adulthood. Vicky Mori has spent so much time convinced the grass was greener on the other side that she never learned to tend her own lawn. Now that her garden is green, she’s terrified to discover it might be artificial. The previews indicate that Vicky will face a crisis of identity and self-discovery. This is a natural and necessary progression for the character. Having defined herself for so long by her shortcomings—a husband, a degree, a “perfect family”—she must now define herself by what she is, not what she lacks.

This existential pivot is what elevates “Envious” above the standard sitcom. It treats its protagonist’s neuroses with weight and consequence. When the official accounts joke that “big things are coming” in Vicky’s life, it’s a euphemism loaded with disastrous potential. The inclusion of scenes involving a baby and a wedding in the promotional material points directly to the definitive stressors of adult life. For a woman who has idealized these milestones to the point of obsession, the reality of living them implies a loss of control that Vicky is historically ill-equipped to handle. The series seems ready to ask whether getting what you want is really the cure for envy, or if it simply shifts the target of that envy to something else entirely—perhaps to those who have less but enjoy more.

The Narrative Bridge: The Aftermath of Chaos

To understand where we’re going, it’s crucial to remember the storm we’re coming from. The previous season finale left the audience with a mix of nervous laughter and anxiety, setting a tone that will surely be amplified in the new episodes. The way the main and secondary plots were resolved—or rather, left open—offers vital clues about the dynamics we’re about to see.

The Birth in the Van and the “Feminist Baby”

One of the most emblematic moments serving as a bridge to the new season is the chaotic birth of Caro’s child. This event wasn’t just a comedic device; it was a palpable demonstration of the gap between Vicky’s fantasy and the raw reality of her friends. The preceding “ritual” sequence—where Vicky, unable to contain her cynicism and laughter, ends up getting kicked out with her friends for mocking the astrologer who predicted the baby would be “a feminist from the womb”—encapsulates Vicky’s inability to take new-age spiritualities seriously, even as she tries to fit in. The subsequent scene at the restaurant, where Matías tries to talk to one of the girls (May) while Caro’s water breaks after dousing her food in hot sauce, is a choreography of disasters that defines the series’ rhythm. Caro’s refusal to go to the hospital, demanding to have the baby at home and have her decision respected, clashes head-on with logistical reality when they end up stranded in a van due to a GPS error. Vicky, in the midst of this whirlwind, is not the hero who solves the problem, but the witness who advises from a place of shared panic: “we’ve been scared together a thousand times.” This moment consolidates the friends’ loyalty but also exposes the fragility of their plans. Caro giving birth in a van is the antithesis of the perfection Vicky seeks, and yet, it is real life, breaking through.

The Mid-Credits Scene: The Lingering Doubt

Perhaps the most revealing detail for the new season is found in the mid-credits scene of the previous finale. In a therapy session, Fernanda, the psychologist masterfully played by Lorena Vega, confronts Vicky with a question that disarms her entire apparent victory. Now that she seems to have the “perfect family,” Fernanda asks her about her current fears. Vicky’s response isn’t verbal, it’s a gesture: a furrowed brow, a worried expression that ends the season by planting seeds of doubt about her supposed happy ending. This brief moment raises new questions about the future of Vicky and Matías’s relationship. It suggests that the ghosts of the past haven’t been exorcised, but have simply moved to a different room. Therapy, far from having “cured” her, has uncovered a deeper layer of dissatisfaction. This open ending is the perfect launchpad for the third season, anticipating that Vicky’s stability is, at best, provisional.

The Cast: Returns, Strategies, and New Virtues

The cast’s alchemy has always been the combustion engine of “Envious,” and the third season is betting on keeping the core intact while injecting new blood that promises to alter established dynamics. It’s not just about adding famous names, but about incorporating archetypes that will challenge Vicky in new ways.

The Central Dynamic: Siciliani and Lamothe

Griselda Siciliani returns as Vicky, a role that demands an almost acrobatic balance between physical comedy and dramatic depth. Siciliani’s ability to make Vicky empathetic even in her most selfish moments is the series’ most valuable asset. Her performance anchors the narrative, allowing the tone to oscillate between slapstick and existential angst within the same scene. Alongside her, Esteban Lamothe reprises his role as Matías. Lamothe’s character often functions as the grounding wire, the “straight man” to Vicky’s chaotic whirlwind. The evolution of their relationship—from a tentative “can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em” to a consolidated couple—will be the season’s emotional backbone. The question is no longer if they will be together, but how they can be, when one half of the partnership is perpetually waiting for it all to fall apart. Lamothe, with his naturalistic style, provides the necessary counterbalance to Siciliani’s operatic intensity.

The Greek Chorus: Gamboa, Urtizberea, and the Neurotic Sisterhood

The supporting cast, which acts as a Greek chorus of modern porteña femininity, remains intact and vital. Pilar Gamboa, Violeta Urtizberea, Marina Bellati, and Bárbara Lombardo return to flesh out Vicky’s social circle. Each of these friends represents a different facet of the life Vicky covets or criticizes. Their interactions are not mere comic relief; they are the mirror in which Vicky sees her own inadequacies reflected. This is particularly notable in the case of Caro (Urtizberea), whose recent motherhood after the van birth will likely serve as a brutal contrast for Vicky. If Vicky is dealing with the idea of family, Caro is dealing with the visceral, messy, and exhausting reality of it. The group functions as an organic entity where the dynamics of female friendship are explored: unconditional support mixed with subtle competition, deep love tinged with silent judgments.

The New Additions: A Generational Plot Twist

The third season is generating headlines not only for its returning stars but also for bold casting decisions that signal a desire to expand the show’s demographic reach and narrative texture.

Nicki Nicole and the Mystery of “Virtudes”

Perhaps the most talked-about addition is the acting debut of music sensation Nicki Nicole. The artist from Rosario joins the fictional world playing a character named “Virtudes” (Virtues). The choice of name cannot be accidental in a series titled “Envious.” Introducing a character named “Virtues” suggests an almost allegorical thematic counterpoint. Griselda Siciliani herself has hinted that the dynamic between Vicky and Virtudes will be unexpectedly close; she described their characters’ relationship as “very maternal,” suggesting Vicky might see herself reflected, or perhaps threatened, by Virtudes’ youth, adopting a protective or mentoring role. Reports confirm that Virtudes will have a key role in the story. For a non-actor, taking on a central role in an established hit is a significant gamble. Nicki herself has commented cryptically about her character: “Virtudes is a very, very… You just have to see her,” leaving the true nature of her role in suspense. Her presence brings a different energy—younger, more urban, and connected to a different cultural zeitgeist. If Vicky represents the anxieties of the Millennial or Gen X generation facing their forties, Virtudes could represent the generation coming up behind them.

The “Soy Rada” Enigma and the Extended Cast

Also joining the cast is the multi-talented comedian and magician Agustín “Soy Rada” Aristarán. Details about his role are being kept under strict wraps, a secrecy that in this industry usually implies a character with significant plot weight or a major narrative twist. Aristarán’s comedy background fits perfectly with the show’s tone. A new professional rival? An element of chaos in Vicky’s social life? Other additions include María Abadi, José “El Purre” Giménez Zapiola, and Agustina Suásquita (known as Papry). These choices hint at an expansion of Vicky’s world, possibly in her professional life as an architect or in wider social circles. The inclusion of younger actors and influencers suggests the series is modernizing its social landscape. Furthermore, special appearances by figures like Julieta Cardinali and Sebastián Wainraich solidify the show’s status as a meeting point for top-tier Argentine talent. Wainraich, known for his own personifications of urban neurosis, seems like a natural inhabitant of the “Envious” universe.

Thematic Depths: Beyond the Laughter

Although “Envious” is labeled a comedy, its staying power is due to its willingness to engage with darker, more uncomfortable themes. The third season seems poised to deepen this exploration, using the safety net of humor to discuss serious emotional issues.

The “Having It All” Trap

The new season’s central thesis appears to be the fragility of satisfaction. Vicky has spent seasons striving to reach a destination. Now that she has arrived, she must deal with the maintenance of that achievement. This touches on a universal human experience: the arrival fallacy, the belief that once a goal is reached (marriage, a degree, a job), happiness will be permanent and solid. The show deconstructs this by showing that insecurity doesn’t disappear with success; it simply changes shape. Vicky’s fear of losing Matías isn’t just about the relationship; it’s about the fear of reverting to her former self, the one she has worked so hard to escape.

Motherhood and the Biological Clock

The presence of a baby in the trailer and the narrative threads surrounding Caro’s motherhood suggest this will be a major theme. For a woman of her age, this topic is fraught with biological and social pressure. The show has never shied away from the brutal realities of aging and the expectations placed on women. Whether Vicky herself pursues motherhood or confronts it through her friends, the theme serves as the ultimate litmus test for her envy. The previous season’s mention of the “feminist baby” highlights the show’s ability to satirize these modern pressures even while acknowledging their weight. Griselda Siciliani herself has reflected on Vicky’s “hormonal” and destabilized state, suggesting that biology will play a role in her emotional chaos.

Therapy as a Battlefield

The return of Lorena Vega as Fernanda, the psychologist, is crucial. The therapy sessions have become a signature of the show, providing a narrative device that allows for direct exposition of Vicky’s internal state without feeling forced. These sessions are where the mask comes off. The series uses this space not to magically “cure” the character, but to expose her contradictions. These sessions are expected to continue to be the anchor for the show’s most introspective moments, grounding the plot’s absurdity in genuine psychological inquiry.

The Mastermind: Writing and Production

Behind Vicky’s neurosis is the mind of Carolina Aguirre, the screenwriter who has skillfully captured the pulse of a generation. Aguirre has described her approach as a “sentimental buffet where the sentimental is political,” a mission statement that elevates the soap opera to the level of sociology. In recent interviews, Aguirre has spoken about the institution of marriage with a frankness that resonates in the series’ script. When she mentions her own life and the idea that “marriage legally organizes the couple,” we see echoes of Vicky’s obsession with order and legitimacy. For the screenwriter, and by extension her protagonist, social structures are not just formalities; they are ways to contain emotional chaos.

The production, handled by Kapow and led by Adrián Suar, has shown unusual confidence in the project. Not only was the third season filmed; Netflix has confirmed, via a promotional video where Vicky herself holds a sign reading “Envious in production,” that a fourth season is also a done deal. The “back-to-back” production schedule (filming simultaneously or consecutively) began months ago, a strategy that reveals the platform’s long-term bet and guarantees narrative continuity without the dreaded cancellation hiatuses. Directors Daniel Barone and Gabriel Medina have managed to create a visual aesthetic that captures the frantic rhythm and light of Buenos Aires, turning the city into another character.

The Protagonist’s View

Griselda Siciliani is not just the visible face, but an interpreter who reflects deeply on the nature of her character. In a revealing interview, Siciliani confessed that, if she had to envy something in a “metaverse of envy,” it would be “people who eat and don’t get fat,” envying a “fast metabolism.” This seemingly trivial confession connects to the physicality of her performance. Vicky is a character who lives in her body, who feels envy as a physical discomfort, an unease in her own skin. Her performance brings that “vulgarity” of envy—as she herself calls it—to the surface, making it tangible and, therefore, hilarious.

Benjamín Vicuña and the Ghosts of the Past

The figure of Benjamín Vicuña, who was a central part of the initial narrative, continues to cast a shadow over the series. Although the current plot focuses on solidifying the relationship with Lamothe, Vicuña’s presence in the credits and in the show’s structure reminds the audience that Vicky’s past is a minefield. Discussions surrounding his character often border on the meta-textual, with comments about his attractiveness and personal life that seem to blur the line between the actor and the role. His presence in this third season remains a key piece in Vicky’s emotional puzzle, whether as an active presence or as the ghost of choices past, with cast confirmations keeping him in the production’s orbit.

Why Do We Need Vicky Mori?

In an era of curated social media feeds and performative wellness, a character like Vicky Mori is a necessary corrective. She is the embodiment of the ugly feelings we are taught to hide: jealousy, insecurity, pettiness. By putting these feelings on screen and playing them for laughs, “Envious” offers a form of collective catharsis. We laugh at Vicky because we recognize her in ourselves. We recognize the moment of scrolling through Instagram and feeling a pang of resentment at a friend’s vacation. We recognize the fear of being left behind.

The third season promises to double down on this bid for identification. By giving Vicky what she wanted, the show eliminates her excuse for being unhappy. This forces her—and the audience—to confront the reality that happiness is an internal job, not an external acquisition. It’s a terrifying proposition, but in the hands of Griselda Siciliani and this talented creative team, it will surely be hilarious. The addition of stars like Nicki Nicole and the promise of deeper dramatic stakes suggest that “Envious” is not content to rest on its laurels. It is evolving, just like its protagonist. It’s becoming richer, more complex, and perhaps a little more dangerous.

The Final Date

The wait for this new chapter is coming to an end. The questions about Vicky’s future, the mystery behind the character “Virtudes,” and the fate of her relationship with Matías will soon be answered. Fans can mark their calendars and prepare their own therapy sessions—or glasses of wine—to analyze every neurosis.

The third season of “Envious” will be available on Netflix starting November 19.

Until then, we can only speculate, anticipate, and perhaps allow ourselves a little healthy envy for those who already know how it ends. But as Vicky might learn—or perhaps not—it’s better to focus on your own path, even if that path is paved with anxiety, bad decisions, and lots and lots of drama.