
Carla Peterson
Ángela

“Someone had to send everything to the 💩”
After meeting in an anger management group, two women embark on a journey of empowerment and friendship when they set out to expose a surgeon with a suspicious reputation.
I’ve always been suspicious of movies that promise empowerment through revenge. It’s an easy formula: take two wronged women, hand them a villain, and let them loose. The catharsis writes itself.
But Women on the Edge (or No me rompan, which translates more bluntly to Don’t Break Me) doesn’t just follow that script—it fumbles with it, drops it, then kicks it down a flight of stairs. And somehow, that’s what makes it interesting.
The film opens in an anger management group, where Ángela (Carla Peterson) and Vera (Julieta Díaz) meet under fluorescent lighting that feels like a hospital’s bad cousin. They’re both there because they’ve been told their rage is a problem, not a symptom. Ángela, a former beauty queen turned disgraced influencer, seethes with the kind of performative fury that only exists in the age of Instagram.
Vera, a divorced mother and former TV host, carries her anger like a second skin—tight, suffocating, but familiar. The group’s therapist (played with weary charm by Martín Garabal) tries to guide them through exercises that feel less like healing and more like a bad improv class. It’s here, in these awkward, stilted moments, that the film’s heart begins to beat.

What follows is a buddy comedy that wants to be a feminist manifesto, a farce that occasionally remembers it’s also a character study. The plot is simple: after discovering they’ve both been botched by the same plastic surgeon (Salvador del Solar, oozing sleaze in a way that makes you wonder if he’s ever played a non-villain), Ángela and Vera team up to take him down. Their plan involves disguises, social media stunts, and a lot of screaming.
It’s Thelma & Louise if Thelma and Louise had TikTok accounts and a shared history of being told to smile more.
The film’s biggest strength—and its most frustrating flaw—is its refusal to settle into a single tone. One minute, it’s a slapstick comedy with pratfalls and exaggerated reactions; the next, it’s a sharp satire of beauty standards and the way women’s pain is monetized. The shifts aren’t always seamless.
Women on the Edge did not look like a streaming event in September 2023. Wikipedia dates the Argentine and Peruvian theatrical open to September 21, a Uruguay expansion to September 28, and a six-week shoot split between Montevideo and Buenos Aires. First-week admissions in Argentina were 25,763. The full theatrical run reached about 96,000 tickets, seventh among Argentine films that year. Runtime is 93 minutes. Then La Nacion, on December 11, 2023, latestnetflix.com contends, said the same comedy had become the most watched movie on Netflix in Argentina and Uruguay. English rows keep the translated title. Spanish posters kept No me rompan.,
Julieta Diaz had already framed the pitch for the paper around the theatrical date. "No me rompan es un pochoclazo para pasarla bien." She and Carla Peterson had not shared a film since 2012's Dos mas dos, where they played the partners of Adrian Suar and Juan Minujin. La Nacion's August 24 trailer story made that 11-year gap the marketing hook and confirmed a September 21 open in Argentina and Peru. Azul Lombardia directed after La vida segun Roxi and Doberman. Jazmin Rodriguez Duca originated the idea. Sebastian Meschengieser and Alberto Rojas Apel share the screenplay. Diaz told La Nacion the project had been cooking for about six years. Friends from other sets kept joining until the credits looked like a gala.,
Fito Paez is the name people repeat under the trailer. La Nacion says he was in the middle of a world tour, still carved out a scene, brought his own clothes, and added ideas. He plays a telenovela director in Angela's orbit. Claudia Fernandez, the Uruguayan TV host, made her film debut as Paola Blejer, the ex who is now boss to Vera's husband. She told El Pais Uruguay, as quoted by La Nacion, that Diaz gave her "piques" that changed a couple of takes, and that a gap in Got Talent that year left room to try cinema. Esteban Lamothe, Nancy Duplaa, Cecilia Dopazo, Alfonso Tort, and Martin Garabal fill the rest of the circus. Salvador del Solar, billed on Netflix next to Peterson and Diaz, plays surgeon Edgardo Sanchez Leven.,,
Press notes quoted by La Nacion describe Angela and Vera as women from different worlds who live under the same mandates. Peterson is the 45-year-old actress in a public split. Diaz is the mother selling homemade creams who throws a pot of product at her husband's new boss and lands in anger management. They meet there, clock a plastic surgeon selling illegal youth, and try to wreck the business. Peterson told La Nacion that beauty rules press everyone, and that del Solar's villain works as a metaphor for that market. The surgeon's line to Angela, printed by the paper, is blunt. "No sos vieja, pero estas a punto de serlo." Netflix's English logline still sells an anger-control group, a sketchy plastic surgeon, and a friendship. None of this is a leaked on-set war. The gossip is the delay, the reunion, the rock star with a suitcase of shirts, and a mid-size theatrical comedy that the ranking treated like a blockbuster.,,
Entertainment rumors and trivia aggregated from public reporting. Treat speculation as unverified unless a cited source confirms it.
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