Suburra: Blood on Rome (2017–2020) remains one of Netflix’s most gripping and uncompromising Italian series — a three-season crime saga that blends political corruption, organised crime, religion, family loyalty, and raw street violence into a dark, modern-day Roman epic.

Loosely inspired by the real-life Mafia Capitale scandal and Carlo Bonini & Giancarlo De Cataldo’s novel (which also spawned the 2015 film Suburra), the show is set in contemporary Rome and follows the bloody power struggle for control of the city’s future. At the centre of the web are three very different men whose fates become dangerously intertwined:

Amedeo Cinaglia (Filippo Nigro) – a disillusioned, ambitious local politician who starts as a man of the people but quickly learns that power in Rome requires dirty hands.
Gabriele “Spadino” Anacleti (Giacomo Ferrara) – the youngest son of the powerful Anacleti crime clan, a charismatic, openly gay gangster trying to survive in a hyper-masculine, homophobic underworld while fighting for his own place at the table.
Alberto “Lele” Marchilli (Alessandro Borghi) – a ruthless, cold-blooded gangster from the rival clan who wants to modernise the old ways and seize total control of Rome’s criminal economy.

The real protagonist, however, is the city itself. Rome in Suburra is not the postcard version of the Colosseum and Trevi Fountain — it’s a living, breathing beast: decaying suburbs, corrupt city council meetings, Vatican politics, drug deals in council estates, and billion-euro real-estate deals that decide who gets rich and who gets buried.

Across three seasons the series never loses intensity. Season 1 sets up the explosive triangle of power, money and betrayal. Season 2 deepens the clan war and pushes every character to moral breaking points. Season 3 — the final one — goes all-in: full-scale gang war, political assassinations, Vatican intrigue, and a body count that spares almost no one. The writing (led by Daniele Cesarano, Barbara Petronio, Ezio Abbate and others) is sharp, cynical, and never moralises. The violence is graphic and unflinching, but it always serves character and plot.

The cast is exceptional from top to bottom. Alessandro Borghi’s Lele is magnetic and terrifying — a man who kills without hesitation yet shows flashes of twisted honour. Giacomo Ferrara’s Spadino is heartbreaking and electrifying — a young gay man trying to survive in a world that despises him, torn between family loyalty and his own identity. Filippo Nigro brings tragic depth to Cinaglia, the politician who sells his soul piece by piece. Claudia Gerini, Eduardo Valdarnini, Federigo Ceci and many others round out a world where everyone is compromised.

Visually, Suburra is stunning. Rome is shot with a dark, almost noir-like palette — wet streets, neon-lit nights, decaying palazzos, brutalist council estates. The soundtrack (composed by Mokadelic) mixes ominous electronica, hip-hop beats and classical strings, creating a constant sense of dread and inevitability.

Critically, the series has been widely praised for its realism, complex characters, and refusal to romanticise the criminal world. It holds strong scores (around 90% on Rotten Tomatoes for most seasons) and is often called “the Italian answer to Gomorrah” — but with more political intrigue and a broader canvas.

Even years after its finale, Suburra: Blood on Rome continues to attract new viewers who discover it through word-of-mouth or algorithm recommendations. It’s brutal, stylish, morally ambiguous, and deeply addictive — the kind of show that makes you feel dirty for enjoying it so much.

If you want a crime drama that doesn’t hold your hand, doesn’t glorify its criminals, and never lets you forget the human cost of power — this is it.

Stream all three seasons on Netflix. Just know: once you enter Rome’s underworld, it’s very hard to leave.