Summary
Delirium delivers some emotional resolution in an overloaded finale. It isn’t a happy ending, per se, but it is an effective one.
Netflix’s eight-episode Colombian drama Delirium is an ambitiously knotty exploration of generational trauma, secrets, and madness, and its ending is a twisty old thing that requires us to unpack a whole heap of history. The show’s reach does admittedly exceed its grasp, but it’s well-intentioned and decently complex in its approach to mental illness and relationships, both familial and romantic.
Annoyingly, the show’s structure makes organising everything a bit of a pain, so I’ve done my best to break everything down into relevant portions in a rough order of chronology. That means starting at the very beginning, though not necessarily the beginning of the series. I’m sure you know what I mean.
Hereditary
A vital theme Delirium toys with is the idea of mental illness being hereditary, something passed down unwillingly through the generations. Since it’s as much a family drama as anything else, especially in the flashback scenes, this is offered up as a key explanatory detail for Agustina’s present-day breakdown.
Aguilar is told by Agustina’s aunt Sofia that her father, Nicolas, suffered from what was apparently tinnitus but was likely some form of deeper delusion. The pianist, tormented by strange noises that he could only drown out underwater, was eventually found dead in the lake of the family farm. Sofia and Eugenia, Agustina’s mother, were forced to lie about what happened, and Eugenia, who claimed to have also heard the sounds, adopted untruths as a default mode of expression. She lied so comprehensively and frequently that reality could only exist in the margins of her fictions.
The very opening scenes of Delirium find Eugenia frightening young Agustina about her first period, telling a story about a mad aunt who was committed to an asylum for constantly scratching herself in public. There’s a clear link drawn between natural feminity – periods, touching oneself, being involved with men, etc. – and an exaggerated form of mental illness. Agustina, even in her childhood, was surrounded by this kind of dysfunction and picked it up quickly, much like how Eugenia became a habitual liar.
It’s unclear whether the implication here is that the entire family inherited a similar mental illness, or that mental illness because a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, whereby the behaviour of one generation would bleed into the next and cause a fresh cycle of trauma.
Young Love
Agustina’s psychotic break is intimately tied to her relationship with Midas, whom she met in her youth after he won a scholarship to the same school as her brother, Joaco. Midas and Agustina fell in love as Midas began to make strides in a drug-smuggling and money laundering operation that roped in several wealthy investors, including Joaco’s father, eventually making criminality the family business.
This leaves both Midas and Agustina trapped. They’re in love, but Midas, as a criminal, will never truly be accepted. Because he’s so vital to the business operations, though, he can’t quite be permanently expelled, either. So, Agustina is stuck in an emotional limbo where a primary source of her pain, confusion, and trauma must necessarily also be inextricably tied to her home and family.
As we’ll see, the permanent proximity of these elements is directly responsible for Agustina’s present-day fate.
Estefania Piñeres in Delirium | Image via Netflix
Agustina’s Breaking
Delirium revolves around Agustina’s present-day husband, Aguilar, trying to get to the bottom of why she has suddenly experienced a psychotic break, though it isn’t until the ending that the truth behind this is finally revealed.
When Agustina achieves enough clarity to explain things, she finds Aguilar at his ex-wife’s home. He had taken a trip with his children, sired by his ex, without Agustina, leaving her on her own. While she was isolated, she received a call from her mother inviting her to a birthday celebration on the family farm. Despite it being a terrible idea to attend, she did so anyway, bringing her into too-close contact with Midas and her spiteful brother Joaco.
It seems reductive boiling Agustina’s myriad traumas down to one or two key incidents, but particular standouts that have clearly deeply affected her are being forced by her mother to terminate Midas’s baby, losing her baby with Aguilar, and the general mistreatment of her other brother, Bichi, who had been ostracised since childhood for being too feminine.
All of these things come to the fore at the party, but Joaco’s nasty remark about never having been a mother is what tips her over the edge. It’s a deeply personal barb that picks the scab off multiple unhealed traumas, and reduces Agustina to delirium. Midas, still on the run from the law, drops her off at the Hotel Wellington, which is where she was when Aguilar got the call that something was wrong.
Happily Ever After?
There’s no romantic future between Agustina and Midas. His taking Agustina to safety was a platonic gesture, born of love deep down, but not an attempt to reignite their relationship. It’s quite introspective, actually. He realises the mistakes he made in pursuing his own glory instead of paying attention to her mental health when she was clearly struggling with it. He takes accountability. Unfortunately, Agustina is too far gone in that moment to really notice.
After Agustina’s confession, Aguilar goes to see Midas, who inquires about Agustina’s well-being and offers his support should Aguilar need it. There’s no bitterness or jealousy. Midas and Agustina aren’t right for each other, which both have accepted, and she knows that Aguilar’s determination to help her during this period has proved both his love for her and that she needs him.
I’m not sure this necessarily constitutes a happy ending, since Agustina is far from healed. But both she and Aguilar have a much better understanding of who she is, and why, and know they can approach life’s difficulties together, with love and understanding. What more is there?
