If I were to tell you the new Netflix series “Oasis” begins with a flash-forward to a shocking crime at a luxury resort, your eyes might glaze over faster than I could say “The White Lotus.” The obvious comparison isn’t wrong, per se; “Oasis” even includes frequent B-roll of waves crashing on the beach, the same visual device “White Lotus” creator Mike White uses to suggest the turmoil beneath the hotel’s glittering surface. But “Oasis” hails from Spain, the same country that supplied the streaming service with eight seasons of the deliciously trashy teen soap “Elite” before that series concluded in 2024. In truth, “Oasis” plays out more like the latter show than a prestigious, high-minded exploration of class dynamics and extreme wealth. The characters are thin and the plot often ludicrous, but the sight of beautiful people making bad decisions is soothing enough to override one’s critical faculties. 

Produced by the same creative team as the true crime series “The Asunta Case,” including Ramón Campos and Jon de la Cuesta, “Oasis” reveals these priorities early. When resort employee Celia (Victoria Kantch) goes missing, the show doesn’t investigate her disappearance through the lens of law enforcement or even her own father, who manages the resort. Fruitful as it might be to center the action around a man forced to appease his customers as he fears for the life of his child, the chosen protagonists of “Oasis” are instead Celia’s best friend Helena (Ana Garcés) and Dani (Tomy Aguilera), a guest who’s formed a romantic attachment to Celia despite meeting her less than 48 hours before her disappearance. Dani provides the voiceover, filled with strained metaphors about earthquakes and sermons on the importance of summer, but the pretense that the dialogue is taken from his interrogation is quickly abandoned. Can a couple kids really match the forensic skills of an actual police force? No, but their frantic attempts to find their friend while managing their own hormones are at least more telegenic.

The most significant impact of the police presence is that the chief inspector (Verónica Sánchez) orders the entire Oasis property placed on lockdown while the search for Celia continues, trapping all the haves and have-nots in cramped quarters. In this hothouse environment, class conflict is heightened, as when the air conditioning goes out and staff have to sacrifice their room fans to sweaty guests; so are more prosaic tensions, though that may just be the nature of a “Gossip Girl”-like story of precocious adolescents. This is a world where the long-term relationship of spoiled teens Maca (Berta Castañé) and Pablo (Manuel Duarte), on the rocks due to his philandering, is treated with all the solemnity of a full-blown marriage, and corporate tycoon Esperanza (Mercedes Sampietro) speaks to her granddaughter Laura (Laura Simón) like a full-fledged business partner.

The social commentary of “Oasis” is both bluntly stated and ultimately marginal. Helena struggles in vain to find a scholarship so she can pursue her education, while one high roller sneers that a staffer reaching above his station thinks “you can live off those of us who make the world go round.” But any cathartic rage is diffused by the one-dimensionality of the characters meant to express it. The chip on Helena’s shoulder makes her believably feisty and quick to anger (although her constantly coiffed wavy bob constantly reminds us we’re watching an actor in full glam rather than a working-class hero). Pablo’s younger sister Alicia (Candela Méndez), however, is generically troubled and erratic; she seems to live only to sporadically antagonize Jaén (Álex Mola), Helena’s ex who deals drugs for extra cash. 

This lack of development doesn’t apply only to figures on one side of a staggering wealth gap. Dani’s de facto stepsister Sofía (Ada Molina) and Maca’s best friend Leo (Amanda Palomino) both engage in ill-advised affairs, but we learn little else about them besides their id-driven impulses. When answers finally arrive about Celia’s whereabouts and the circumstances of her disappearance, they both strain credulity and feel like they’re missing big chunks of lead-up. 

Yet the mismatch between the stated premise of “Oasis” (finding Celia) and its actual interests (hot young people misbehaving) is a telling one. Barricading everyone inside the hotel ostensibly ensures Celia’s abductors can’t leave the property. In practice, it just convinces the bored youth on both sides of the employer/employee spectrum to blow off some steam with a booze-fueled party. We’re now entering the summer months, when the Emmy arms race gives way to less demanding distraction. “Oasis” nails the latter vibe to a tee.

All eight episodes of “Oasis” are now streaming on Netflix.