Telecinco wants to be a Groucho without a mustache or a cigar
Mercedes Milá went out to close Deluxe and dismantled an era that she herself opened in the year 2000, when reality television liquidated the last remains of the primitive, crazy and today almost unspeakable Telecinco. I don’t know how Mediaset will become an innocuous hobby, without the vitriol of the group of gossips who sit in the cool to put everything back and a half.
It is a delicate operation, I would say impossible: the normal thing is to go from Hannah Montana to Miley Cirus, or Leticia Sabater from at noon, joy to Leticia Sabater of carve my turkey. Going back from the cynicism of the festival to the candor of the Ruperta pumpkin is like closing Pandora’s box when it has been open for thirty years.
While peace and smiles arrive for the whole family, I remembered the very first Telecinco at a dinner with friends, that improvised brass band that stunned a country accustomed to a sober television that was about you, with Javier Basilio, Loreto Valverde, the Juanito Navarro, the Mamma Ciccio, the Jesús Gil and the so-called informative Luis Mariñas.
While I speak, my wife looks at me as if I were talking about Lilliput: she lived in a town in those years, where the private signal did not reach. She belongs to a Spain with no memory of that Telecinco: “We saw the TP with the headline of who killed Laura Palmer and we didn’t know what he was talking about”, she confesses, and all of us friends feel sorry for her, although she says that you can’t miss what you haven’t experienced.
Perhaps, but it is necessary for her to appreciate the length of the path that lies ahead. That Telecinco sublimated the shabby and blew up the concept of prestige with firecrackers. That he pursues anything semblance of respectability today is as disturbing as a Groucho without a mustache or cigar.
