This post contains plot details for the entirety of Undone, which debuted September 13 on Amazon.

Undone, Amazon's animated half hour from creators Kate Purdy and Raphael Bob-Waksberg, tells the story of a woman (Rosa Salazar) who begins to see visions of her dead father, Jacob (Bob Odenkirk), after a car accident. But it doesn’t end there: Alma’s entire experience of time changes, so that she sees some events repeat or loop, misses weeks at a time, and seems to be experiencing days out of order. Her friends and family think she has a mental illness. Her father says she has the power to change time. Over eight episodes, animated in rotoscope—a method in which the animation is traced over live-action footage, giving the camerawork a filter of surreal illustration—Alma is knocked about by time, family, and her own brain, in a sitcom that defies expectations.

Undone probably wouldn’t exist in any TV landscape except this one—one where original programming is handsomely funded by tech giants, animation for the adult audience has become a critically lauded category, and fragmented timelines and life after death are commonplace material for sitcoms. But even in this landscape, it’s unique: Undone straddles animation and live action, comedy and drama, medical thriller and spiritual dramedy. The guest stars are mind-boggling—Daveed Diggs is in a minor role, as is an especially saucy Jeanne Tripplehorn. But stars do not distract from the show’s intimacy. Over the course of the season, Alma confronts and begins to make peace with her complex personal history—a deaf childhood, a mixed-race home, a lost indigenous ancestry, a genealogy of mental illness.

The labor-intensive 18-month process combined Purdy and Bob-Waksberg’s scripts with live-action camerawork on a Los Angeles soundstage, Austin-based animators, and Dutch director Hisko Hulsing, who with his team created 800 unique oil paintings for the show’s dreamy, hyperreal backgrounds. Alma’s story comes full circle in the eight episodes of the first season, but Purdy and Bob-Waksberg assure me that they have ideas for a season two. (Purdy also produces Bob-Waksberg’s Netflix show BoJack Horseman; both shows are produced by Tornante.)

“If we do a second season, it would be probably 800 more oil paintings,” Purdy hazarded.

“But also an opportunity to go deeper with the character, and deeper with the world, and deeper with the art—all of it,” Bob-Waksberg added.

The final moments of the season finale end with ambiguity—Alma goes to keep vigil at a pyramid in Mexico, hoping to see the spirit of her father, but spends the night without seeing anything. After giving up, she takes a minute to watch the sun rise—and something attracts her gaze. But the episode ends before we see what it is, leaving the audience holding on to the uncertainty of Alma’s visions.

“Our intention was for that exact thing to happen,” Purdy said. “It allows you to question internally…What do I want to be true?”

“Is Alma delusional because she wants to believe there’s something larger—and talk to her father, and be close with him again?” Purdy asked. Or, “has she just lost her mind, and needs this delusion in order to survive?”

“It’s the first time all season that Alma is ahead of the audience,” explained Bob-Waksberg. “The whole season you’re seeing it with her, and seeing what she sees. And then at the very end, she sees something, and we, the audience, don’t see it. All we see is her.”

Purdy set Undone in her hometown of San Antonio, where nearly 65 percent of the population is Latinx, predominantly Mexican. It was natural, she said, to make her protagonist half-Mexican as a result, though Purdy herself is white. Alma traces her ancestry to the Nahuatl people, which becomes the subject of Undone’s most gorgeous episode, “The Wedding.” Alma becomes transfixed by a performed Nahuatl dance and realizes that she knows the steps—that, in fact, she’s always known the steps.