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Peacock’s M.I.A. arrives as a lean revenge thriller with a pop soundtrack and a swaggering premise: Shannon Gisela’s Etta vows to kill a dozen cartel members after her family is slaughtered. The show sits somewhere between prestige antihero drama and pulpy revenge fantasy, delivering moments of tension and occasional thrills, but often trudging through uneven pacing and familiar story beats.
How M.I.A. sets its revenge plot in motion
Etta Tiger Jonze runs wildlife tours out of her family marina in Key Largo. She remembers everything she sees, studies at night, and dreams of the University of Miami. Her family also moves illegal shipments for a Miami cartel.
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Etta accepts the drug-running work. She draws the line when the cartel adds human trafficking. That refusal triggers a brutal hit on her family. Etta survives by accident while a stranger is killed in their place.
Left alive and furious, Etta composes a list of twelve people to kill. The show follows her double life as she plans revenge while holding down two jobs:
- Host at a trendy Miami club.
- Worker at a run-down motel owned by Lena, who hides a secret.
Her mission is simple: execute a dozen targets. The series makes the revenge premise central, but it doesn’t always maintain urgency.
Characters, casting and surprising chemistry
Gisela carries the series as Etta. Her performance is calm and controlled. That choice fits the concept but sometimes leaves scenes wanting more spark.
Haitian siblings Stanley and Lovely intersect with Etta’s life. Stanley, played by Dylan Jackson, is neurodivergent and soothed by yacht rock. Lovely, played by Brittany Adebumola, forms a shaky found family with Etta.
Cartel antagonists include Mateo and Samuel, brothers who run the operation, and Elias, the violent enforcer. Their sister Caroline launders money through Miami real estate. None of the cartel figures get deep backstories.
Notable guest appearances add texture. Familiar faces pop up for short arcs, including:
- Mike Colter as a Miami councilman.
- Paul Ben-Victor as a Russian mobster.
- Loretta Devine as the siblings’ aunt.
- Billy Burke, Edward James Olmos and Sonia Braga in supporting turns.
- Tovah Feldshuh as Lena, the motel owner with a dramatic secret.
Feldshuh’s performance fuels some of the show’s most memorable moments. Her storyline spins the narrative into a darker and unexpectedly wild direction late in the season.
Yacht rock, “Ride Like the Wind,” and the music trend in TV
M.I.A. leans heavily on yacht rock as a calming motif. Stanley plays Christopher Cross and listens to songs like “Ride Like the Wind” and “Sailing.” The music becomes shorthand for comfort and emotional regulation.
That same Christopher Cross track has been resurfacing across recent TV. Examples include:
- Ryan Murphy’s The Beauty — a grotesque torture scene set to yacht rock.
- Sam Levinson’s Euphoria — a frantic border drive underscored by the song.
- M.I.A. — a softer use of yacht rock to center an anxious character.
There’s a pattern: older, white male showrunners often place yacht rock in the lives of younger people of color. The juxtaposition can feel calculated. The result sometimes reads as ironic counterpoint rather than genuine tonal choice.
Pacing problems and story beats that don’t land
The series opens with a compelling premise. But much of the middle season moves at a slow, meandering pace.
- Scenes that should ratchet tension slide into workplace banter.
- A languid romantic subplot with a college student undercuts urgency.
- Key kills and plot twists lack emotional payoff because the show rarely makes us care enough first.
Cartel leaders are sketchy villains. Mateo is hot-tempered, Samuel is flat, and their arcs fail to provoke curiosity or sympathy. A climactic death is treated as shocking, but the series never gives it the groundwork it needs.
Where the show borrows from other crime dramas
M.I.A. often evokes other prestige hits in tone and structure. Bill Dubuque’s involvement brings echoes of Ozark’s moral weight and methodical plotting. At times the series also gestures toward the dark humor of action-pulp films like The Accountant.
Miami is present but not fully explored. The show acknowledges Haitian and Dominican communities and local food, but it rarely digs into the city’s texture.
Standout episodes and the season’s final pivot
The show finds its footing in the later episodes. An early flashback chapter fills in backstory and resets momentum. After that, the final episodes escalate the violence.
The closing stretch increases stakes, raises the body count, and pushes M.I.A. toward darker territory. The series shifts from episodic tension to wilder, more decisive turns. At the same time, the tonal swing can feel abrupt.
The pilot has a standalone energy and will get a one-off network airing on NBC. That episode is entertaining on its own terms. But several midseason installments, including a dull house party chapter, drag the middle.
What works and what stalls
- Works: Strong guest turns, Feldshuh’s eccentric energy, a lean revenge premise.
- Stalls: Sluggish pacing, underwritten villains, and a romance that drains momentum.
The show’s late episodes reward patience for viewers who stick through the lull. But for many, the payoff may come too late or feel inconsistent with earlier promises.
