To understand a reboot or sequel to a popular work, it is often important to understand where the original work was on. To give a crude example: if a filmmaker wants to shoot a new version of Citizen Kane, his gaze will be expected to contribute to cinema as an artistic expression, and if someone wants to resurrect the Transformers saga, they will be asked to make a spectacle of their technical bill. Afterwards, each author, of course, will do what he wants or what he can, but having a reference work also sets a certain bar. And, let’s face it, the one that can put One Step Forward, a fictional universe that has just been relaunched with UPA Next, is not particularly high.

Daniel Écija’s series narrated the friendship, love affairs and dreams of the students of the Carmen Arranz School of Performing Arts, who had a sympathetic authority in Lola Herrera, channeling elegance and sympathy in each intervention. Among the aspiring singers, dancers and musicians were Beatriz Luengo, Miguel Ángel Muñoz, Silvia Marty, Pablo Puyol or a Mónica Cruz who was hired because she had experience in the world of dance and was physically nailed to her sister Penélope Cruz, which by then had already established itself in the United States.

The fiction, at the level of plots, direction or interpretations, was very fair: an effective product for young people to cover folders where the teachers played by Natalia Millán, Beatriz Rico and Fanny Gautier often raised the material, with more charisma when it came to take charge of their classes. UPA was aware that its public went crazy with the actors filming half the scenes in their underwear, without a shirt or tights and, despite the regrets, the formula worked: it was symptomatic that UPA Dance, the prefabricated group that came out of the series, sold more than 700,000 albums with songs like Morenita or Sámbame.

So, now that we have UPA Next broadcast on Atresplayer Premium, fiction can be criticized based on what it offers or in comparison with what the public can expect from it. And, conceptually, it is not a step forward. Now the Carmen Arranz academy is directed by Silvia (Mónica Cruz), who is having trouble getting enrolled among a new generation who believe that their platform to fame will be to develop their dance through TikTok videos shot in parks and in the room of she. So, when Róber (Miguel Ángel Muñoz) asks him to produce a musical with Lola (Beatriz Luengo), he can’t say no: perhaps they haven’t spoken to each other for more than a decade, but if they use as a claim that the protagonists of the musical will come out of the school, can turn around the financial situation of the center.

Among the new students is Omar (Quique González), a young Cuban who feels uncomfortable with the idea that his mother breaks her back cleaning stairs to pay for her dance studies; a guitarist and composer who does not speak to his family (Marc Betriu) and who finds in a stranger, Elvira (Claudia Lachispa), the voice that inspires him and with which to finish off her music; Andrea (Mónica Mara) who, upon arriving home, discovers that her father has to go to jail for laundering money; or Sergio (Marc Soler), a boy who arrives late for the academy tests and who, as we soon discover, hides hidden motivations to enter there and is willing to do anything to obtain Róber’s validation.

The writing team led by Emilio Díez (El internado, La casa de papel) understands the double objective of caring for the veteran audience, that millennial audience that experienced the initial phenomenon, delving into the old wounds of the characters in Un paso adelante, and the need to update the cast and plots to entertain young people. The resources are the same: a character is introduced to them while they are in the shower and the students of Carmen Arranz can organize an impromptu dance at any time.

Among the successes is the reflection of the character of Mónica Cruz, who hates the way in which young people believe that social networks are the solution to their problems without having to pay the toll for adequate training, and the diversity that exists in the cast, which reflects the reality of the streets, although it is often noticeable to what extent these characters are pigeonholed: the wealthy white woman is corrupt, the Cuban defends the neighborhood culture, the homosexual has a certain aesthetic, the gypsy woman has more conservative values, and white women who are not rich have problems speaking traditional Spanish. None of the portraits are offensive but the labels simply weigh excessively when developing them in the first episodes.

But, regarding the quality of UPA Next as the successor to Un paso adelante, it must be recognized that it is developed with the craft of someone who does not want to innovate but rather repeat and knows how to apply the old mold to the new plots, with dynamics as predictable as the ones from before but enough choreography and musical moments to dress up the footage. If it will have the ability to repeat the success without leaving Atresplayer Premium, where it is currently broadcast, it remains to be seen. Having massive youth phenomena is becoming an ordeal for channels and platforms, unless it is Netflix with Elite, which is in the doldrums.

And, when it comes to setting the bar so low for the original, this reboot or sequel loses the opportunity to update itself aesthetically as well. It is missed that, acknowledging the importance of short videos, viral choreographies and snippets as promotional, interactional and defining weapons of the youth cultural agenda, this interactive, musical and visual mentality is not somehow translated into the language of the Serie. This detracts from the modernity of a proposal that, in short, wants to sell generation Z now.