Bird Box Barcelona, Netflix’s follow-up to the 2018 hit Bird Box, operates under the assumption that viewers are caught up to speed on the monstrous, unseen entities that rendered the world into a post-apocalyptic dystopia. Writer/Directors Álex Pastor and David Pastor bypass retreading the familiar invasion story beats to instead jump straight into character introductions against a backdrop already torn asunder. While 2018’s feature grapples with motherhood, Bird Box Barcelona explores grief, religion, and salvation. Its ambition in themes fascinates even when its execution struggles.

An opening scene introduces dad Sebastián (Mario Casas) having a touching moment with daughter Anna (Alejandra Howard) as they roller skate in an empty gym. It’s short-lived as the pair gear up with goggles and prepare for a blind trek to safety. The hostile strangers encountered shortly after signal a city deeply entrenched in and familiar with the creatures that have decimated the world. But Barcelona signals a departure from its predecessor by closing out its introductions with the reveal that Sebastián’s perception of the world is atypical, and his navigation of the city post-apocalypse may prove far more dangerous to those in his orbit than for himself and Anna.

BIRD BOX (L to R) MARIO CASAS as SEBASTIAN, GONZALO DE CASTRO as ROBERTO, LOLA DUEÑAS as ISABEL in BIRD BOX. Cr. ANDREA RESMINI/NETFLIX © 2022

That Sebastián serves as the audience proxy in this story adds fascinating complexity to the weary mistrust he’s met with at every turn. Sebastián knows what to say to disarm well-intentioned strangers in an apocalypse, leading to a few thrilling action sequences that flip the script. But it’s once Sebastián and Anna assimilate into a small group that includes Claire (Barbarian’s Georgina Campbell), Octavio (Babylon’s Diego Calva), young Sophia (Naila Schuberth) and more that Barcelona settles into a sluggish, repetitive pattern of dwindling numbers. A time-jumping narrative structure further hinders it, which contributes to pacing lulls.

The emphasis on familiar Bird Box horror beats undermines the themes introduced. The Pastor brothers introduce a morally dubious lead, instilling heady questions of blind faith, profound grief, and whether salvation can be earned during humanity’s darkest days. But the filmmakers focus more on the set pieces in Sebastián’s journey to prolong lingering mysteries that flatten character development. Casas effectively toggles between empathetic and chilling pragmatism, but he’s hindered by a script that doesn’t effectively bridge his steep arc. The supporting players get relegated to stock archetypes solely to support Sebastián’s moral voyage.

BIRD BOX (L to R) LEONARDO SBARAGLIA as PADRE ESTEBAN in BIRD BOX. Cr. LUCIA FARAIG/NETFLIX © 2022

From a technical standpoint, the Pastors ensure an engaging spinoff. Overhead shots of a crumbling city impress, as do thrilling action-horror sequences from runaway buses to intense chases through side streets or rubble-filled intersections. Yet, despite Casas’ best efforts, there’s not much depth to Sebastián’s plight. Campbell and Calva get underutilized, and the repetitive middle section does nothing to build upon the ambitious themes of blind faith. Nor does Bird Box Barcelona expand on the creatures themselves; this is another simplified example of humanity being its own worst enemy. It’s all proficient enough to pass the time and keep you guessing, but a heavy-handed third act and a final eyebrow-raising coda will leave you questioning whether this world should be left behind.

Bird Box Barcelona debuts globally on Netflix on July 14, 2023.