Two girls smoke at the door of an industrial warehouse in the middle of an industrial area in Fuenlabrada. They both wear helmets with stuffed monkey faces, but smoke like they have nothing on their heads. Their outfit consists of a t-shirt with a smiling cow on it, but they smoke as if their clothes are normal. Several Chinese walk along the sidewalk and stop to look at her curiously. This polygon is full of warehouses and factories owned by Chinese companies, so many that the names of some streets have been translated into Chinese. It would be difficult to explain to these Chinese workers what they are seeing, but it would be very easy to explain to any Spaniard living in the 1990s: in this huge warehouse, one of the few in the industrial area whose signs are in Spanish, the Grand Prix, “the program for grandfathers and children”, is recorded, which returns to screens this Monday.
Both the grandfather and the child would be amazed when they enter the set, where everything is ready to start recording the fourth episode of the new season of this classic that entertained the summers of TVE between 1995 and 2005. It’s like a giant Chiqui Park where many things happen at the same time. Comedic stuntman Wilbur stretches while, already known as a method actor, makes comic noises with his voice. A boy dressed as a heifer takes off his head and gasps. Someone tells her there’s a whole movement on social media that finds the mascot surprisingly sexy, and her reaction makes it clear this isn’t the first time she’s been told that.
– “You should keep the costume and flirt with it,” says a partner.
– “No, because then I would take it off and they would be disappointed,” he jokes.
And then he appears. Accompanied by Barry White’s “You’re My First, The Last, My Everything,” Ramón García pockets the audience with his very existence. The audience on set gaze at him in awe and treat him for what he is: a national symbol. Someone approaches him and tells him that there is a candidate who is very excited to meet him. She tells him that it is the happiest day of her life. When I was little I was in love with him. It is curious the extent to which Ramón García was Spain’s son-in-law in the 1990s but was by no means Spain’s friend. They are similar things, but fundamentally different.
– “I always watched the Grand Prix with my grandparents,” the admirer tells him.
– “And are your grandparents here?” answers the moderator.
– “No, they are not here anymore”, she explains before she starts to cry.
Start the first test. Standing the blue team, Los Montesinos (Alicante). In another, the yellow, Tineo (Asturias). Participants line up while their neighbors cheer them on like heroes. Every time you get a point, there’s a roar in the stands like it’s a football final. The 34 people selected to take part in the tests learned that they had been selected when they arrived on set in the morning. The production company took several factors into account: parity (17 men and 17 women), physical condition (they can’t be too big or too small, for example) and their digital footprint. “They asked us about their profiles on social networks,” admits Tineo Mayor Montse Fernández. No one wants the grandpa and kid show to be smeared because some crazy wooden jumper posted something in 2017 they shouldn’t have.
During the breaks, Belinda Washington, godmother of the Tineo team, explains to her fans that “mental strength is very important” and that if everyone builds positive energy together, they will definitely win. This magical thought overwhelms the realism of tiredness: the 145 residents of Tineo involved in this set got on the bus at four in the morning to arrive at 11 a.m. to start recording at three to finish at midnight and get on another bus that will take them back to Tineo barely 24 hours after their departure. Those from Montesinos are the same but with a few hours less bus travel. With the euphoria with which they cheer on their team, nobody would say that they have 500 kilometers ahead of them.
The participants take part in one of the tests of the new season of the “Grand Prix”. DAVID EXPOSITO
“Madrid’s cities are a little less intense,” comments a member of the production team on the first show, which saw Alfacar (Granada) take on Colmenarejo (Madrid). Ramón García, who has been in contact with the people and the cities for many years, has an explanation for the warmth of Madrid. “It’s always happened,” he confirms. “That’s because the show is being taped in Madrid. Their journey is short, they don’t accumulate adrenaline during the hour-long journey, they don’t have the same sense of adventure as those who come from far away.”
As soon as Televisión Española gave the green light for the new Grand Prix, the production company contacted the 548 cities in Spain that meet the requirements: a minimum of 5,000 and a maximum of 10,000 registered residents. These are the same numbers that were set in 1995 for one simple reason. “If it’s less than 5,000, we run the risk of not having enough participants,” explains executive producer Carlo Boserman. “If it’s more than 10,000, they may feel less passion for the competition. In small towns everyone knows everyone, you are more sensitive and emotionally connected to your city pride. They have more team spirit.” Of these 548 villages, more than 100 applied to take part. “Then the elections happened and there were some changes,” says Boserman.
In 1995, neither Tineo nor Los Montesinos would have qualified to compete. Tineo exceeded the maximum and Los Montesinos did not reach the minimum. “Eight years ago we had more than 13,000 inhabitants,” says the mayor of Tineo. “But the closure of the mines by the socialist government was a hard blow to the council. Now we are 9,009 residents. We hope that a company will decide to settle in Tineo.”
Fernández has just entered City Hall. In fact, it was the previous mayor who submitted the application for the city’s participation in the Grand Prix. She is the first mayor of the People’s Party in 20 years that Tineo has. With the advent of democracy, a local party called UCA (Peasant Unity) was formed, which held the mayoralty until 2001: the PP won, the UCA disbanded, several of its members joined the PSOE, and a no-confidence vote in 2003 brought the PSOE to the city council, where it remained for two decades until Montse Fernández’s victory on May 28.
The mayor of Los Montesinos, José Manuel Butrón, is a socialist. “I’d rather not know,” Fernández replies. The program ensures that there is equality of political signs in the participating municipalities. Butrón has been in office for 32 years and has just been re-elected for his ninth term. Los Montesinos has 5,600 registered residents and has made minimal progress in recent times in the Grand Prix thanks to its unprecedented population growth: today it has 1,000 more residents than five years ago and the median age has rejuvenated. “We have the advantage that we are on the second line of the beach directly behind Torrevieja and the houses are therefore not that expensive,” argues the mayor.
Both Fernández and Butrón see their participation in the Grand Prix as a showcase for their cities. “Even in Asturias, Tineo is an unknown town,” the mayor laments. “But let all of Spain know that it is a wonderful destination from April to November. We have the chosco, our sausage; panning for gold because there is a river of gold; and Lorenzana butter. But we need to finish the A63 road so that it reaches our city.” Given the opportunity to promote Los Montesinos, its mayor is less specific. “Let them see our camaraderie, our healthy youth and our sportsmanship. People might go to Torrevieja for the nightlife, but we have grown a lot in the sports entertainment space. We have women’s soccer, swimming pools and tennis courts,” she says.
Ramón García, while recording one of the programs of the new season of the “Grand Prix” DAVID EXPÓSITO
Empty Spain, a matter of national interest
“The idea of showing deep Spain,” recalls format creator Francesco Boserman, “was born because it represents the essence of authentic Spain, and one that is understood and enjoyed by everyone.” From the cities, the rural identity of the Grand Prix participants was perceived as something exotic, friendly and endearing. Today, empty Spain is a matter of national interest and the new Grand Prix will take on a social meaning: it will serve to show the whole country that the cities are full of life. And they take this opportunity very seriously. Jorge, the owner of the Vaqueiros dance studio (“The Vaqueiros are an ethnic group from here, from the mountains”, explains the mayor of Tineo), organized courses, physical tests and exercise classes so that everyone could arrive in Madrid in top form if they had to compete. “Those from Los Montesinos came the old-fashioned way,” confirms Ramón García, “but Tineo came to the Olympics. They fall, they throw, they give everything.”
The next test is The Nursery. You are bound. As the contestants get into position, someone from the Tineo stands shouts, “Come on Estela, it’s in your hands!” Estela, in her giant baby costume, is too focused to care about the pressure. Candidates refer to their rivals as “the ones from the other side,” and it’s nice to hear that expression, so falsified in the final months of the campaign, in such an innocuous context. “It’s perfect that it opens right after the elections,” says Ramón García. “After so much noise, we will be an oasis of calm: two and a half hours of rest, watching the Grand Prix over a beer.”
García introduces the participants of the next round: Fran from Los Montesinos (silence) and Omar from Tineo (ovation). Will Omar be more popular in his town than Fran is in hers? Or are Tineo’s stands already unlocked? Between takes (as the operators assemble and dismantle the huge sets for each test), one stage chants their city’s name, the other chants their name louder, and a councilman approaches them and asks them to save all that energy for recording the cameras. It’s six o’clock in the afternoon and there are about six hours of recording left. “At ten o’clock I’m going to go to the stands to bite her,” says Ramón García. “I tell them, ‘What’s the matter, are you tired?’ Don’t you have the guts to gossip?’”.
Before the snack break (three words that elicit more applause than Omar), Ramón García announces what’s coming next. He solemnly spreads his arms, slowly looks up at the sky and calls out, “The hot potato!” It’s not for less. The hot potato in this set is the Golden Fleece. It’s a landmark of television of yesteryear that all these workers are trying so hard to recreate.
While there’s no heifer, there are plenty of 1995 fetishes to evoke the magic of the era: Ramón García, bowling, Belinda Washington. It’s like the last 30 years on this set never happened. But they happened. Thanks to cell phones and the internet, rural Spain is no longer living in isolation from the rest of the world as it was in 1995. “They come out much better informed,” confirms Ramón García. “In that sense, their life is no longer so different from that of the city dwellers. And you will be amazed at the videos they send. They’re much better edited, edited, and effected and all.”
But the timeless values of the Grand Prix remain: camaraderie, sportsmanship, the will to perform at your best. The pride of the city transcends the mayor’s political party. And this is the sentimental television that proposes to restore Grand Prix. “You don’t have to come from a city to have a city,” says the moderator. “Everyone needs a city. A place to belong.”
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