Mercedes Milá ended Deluxe, destroying an era that she herself inaugurated in 2000, when reality television liquidated the last remnants of the primitive, crazy and today almost unpronounceable Telecinco. I don’t know how Mediaset can become a harmless hobby without the spitefulness of the group of gossipers who sit quietly and put everything back to an hour and a half. It’s a delicate operation, I’d say impossible: usually it’s from Hannah Montana to Miley Cirus, or from Leticia Sabater from A mediodía, alegría to Leticia Sabater from Trínchame el pavo. Going back from the cynicism of the festival to the openness of the Ruperta pumpkin is like closing Pandora’s box after it’s been open for thirty years.
As peace and smiles descend for the whole family, I remembered the very first Telecinco at a dinner with friends, that impromptu brass band that stunned a country used to sober television about you, with Javier Basilio , Loreto Valverde, the Juanito Navarro , the Mamma Ciccio, the Jesús Gil and the so-called informative Luis Mariñas. As I speak, my wife looks at me as if I were talking about Lilliput: she lived in those years in a city that the private signal did not reach. She belongs to a Spain that has no memory of this Telecinco: “We saw the TP with the headline who killed Laura Palmer and we didn’t know what she was talking about,” she admits, and all of us friends feel sorry with her , although she says that one must not overlook what has not been lived Maybe, but one must be aware of how long the way back is. That Telecinco sublimated the shabby and blew up the concept of prestige with firecrackers. That he aspires to even semblance of respectability today is as disconcerting as a groucho without a mustache and cigar.
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