In a world where streaming platforms increasingly spotlight marginalized voices, Netflix’s Uncredited: The Story of Passinho (2025) emerges as a groundbreaking tribute to the resilience, artistry, and untold stories of Brazil’s favelas. Blending pulsating dance sequences, raw emotional drama, and a searing commentary on social inequality, this Brazilian original series has captivated global audiences, earning acclaim for its authenticity, heart, and unflinching portrayal of life in Rio de Janeiro’s urban peripheries. Here’s why Passinho is more than just a show—it’s a cultural movement.
A Dance Born from Struggle
At its core, Passinho is a celebration of the titular dance style, a kinetic art form born in the favelas of Rio in the early 2000s. Characterized by rapid footwork, acrobatic spins, and infectious energy, passinho (Portuguese for “little step”) evolved as a creative rebellion against systemic neglect and violence. The series pays homage to this cultural phenomenon, weaving its history into the fictional journey of brothers João (João Miguel) and Iuri (Iuri Carlos), whose lives are irrevocably changed by the dance.
João, a gifted samba dancer trapped in the cycle of poverty, and Iuri, a disillusioned rapper drowning in resentment, represent two sides of the same coin: talent stifled by circumstance. Their paths collide with a crew of passinho dancers whose electrifying performances ignite a spark of hope. For João, the dance becomes an escape; for Iuri, a lifeline. Together, they navigate a world where artistry is both a weapon and a refuge.
Plot : Uncredited: The Story of Passinho (2025) Brotherhood, Betrayal, and Beats
The series Uncredited: The Story of Passinho (2025) opens in the labyrinthine alleys of Rio’s Complexo do Alemão, where the brothers grapple with their fractured relationship. João’s dream of dancing professionally is mocked as impractical, while Iuri’s rap career stalls amid gang pressures. Their dynamic shifts when they discover a passinho crew led by the fiery Larissa (newcomer Ana Beatriz Silva), whose choreography fuses street dance with political protest.
As João and Iuri immerse themselves in the passinho scene, they confront visceral challenges: financial desperation, rival crews sabotaging their gigs, and the ever-present threat of police brutality. A subplot involving a local community organizer (played by veteran actor Seu Jorge) underscores the systemic roots of their struggles—corrupt politicians, drug trafficking, and the erasure of favela culture.
The brothers’ journey crescendos in a high-stakes dance battle at Rio’s iconic Pedra do Sal, where victory promises not just prize money but visibility. Yet, the show avoids clichéd underdog tropes. Instead, it asks: What does success cost in a society that exploits marginalized art? A gut-wrenching third-act betrayal forces João and Iuri to choose between fame and loyalty, culminating in a finale that leaves audiences breathless.
Cultural Context: More Than a Dance
Passinho transcends entertainment by embedding its narrative in real-world socio-political struggles. The favelas, often reduced to stereotypes of violence in media, are reimagined as hubs of creativity and community. The series highlights initiatives like bailes funk (street parties) and grassroots activism, framing dance as both cultural preservation and resistance.
Director Karim Aïnouz (Central Station, Mariner of the Mountains) infuses each frame with visceral authenticity. Shooting on location in Rio’s favelas, the show collaborates with local passinho collectives, many of whose members appear as supporting actors or choreographers. This commitment to representation extends to the soundtrack, which blends Brazilian funk, hip-hop, and traditional samba, featuring artists like Ludmilla, MC Carol, and Criolo.
The Uncredited Heroes
The title Uncovering the Uncredited nods to the series’ meta-commentary on cultural appropriation. A recurring thread follows a scheming music producer (Alexandre Nero) who attempts to commercialize passinho by erasing its roots, repackaging it as a “trend” for wealthy elites. This storyline mirrors real-world battles over who gets to profit from Black and favela-born art forms—from samba to funk carioca.
In one poignant scene, Larissa confronts the producer: “You want our moves but not our voices. Our culture but not our people.” The series challenges viewers to recognize the unnamed architects of global pop culture, offering a manifesto for artistic integrity.
Behind the Scenes: A Triumph of Collaboration
Passinho’s production was as community-driven as its plot. Over 60% of the crew hailed from favelas, including cinematographer Gabriele Galimberti, who grew up in Rio’s Morro da Providência. Dance sequences were choreographed by Edgar “Xuxu” Jesus, a pioneer of the passinho movement. “This isn’t just a show—it’s our history,” Jesus said in an interview. “Every step you see was forged in struggle.”
The cast, too, bridges star power and grassroots talent. While João Miguel brings gravitas as the tormented João, Ana Beatriz Silva—a real-life passinho dancer with no prior acting experience—steals scenes with her raw charisma. “I’m not acting,” Silva remarked. “I’m showing the world what my life looks like.”
Critical Reception: Global Impact
Since Uncredited: The Story of Passinho (2025) release, Passinho has sparked international dialogue. The New York Times praised it as “a masterclass in storytelling that dances between joy and despair,” while Brazilian critics hailed its unapologetic politics. On social media, the #PassinhoChallenge has gone viral, with users from Lagos to Los Angeles posting their interpretations of the dance.
Yet the series has also faced backlash. Conservative politicians in Brazil denounced it as “glorifying delinquency,” a charge the creators vehemently reject. “We’re not glorifying struggle—we’re exposing it,” Aïnouz responded. “And demanding change.”
Why Passinho Matters
In an era of algorithm-driven content, Passinho stands out as a defiantly human story. It refuses to romanticize poverty or reduce its characters to trauma tropes. Instead, it offers a kaleidoscopic view of resilience: laughter in cramped living rooms, impromptu dance battles under flickering streetlights, and the quiet triumph of existing loudly in a world that wants you silent.
For global audiences, the series is a gateway to understanding Brazil beyond carnival clichés. For Brazilians, it’s a long-overdue spotlight on the creativity thriving in the country’s peripheries. As João Miguel’s character declares in the finale: “They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.”
Uncredited: The Story of Passinho (2025) is now streaming on Netflix.