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On the red carpet, the Absolute Minority team welcomes celebrities, politicians and friends. Toni Soler ends up being at the center of most photographs, as the creator of the format. When I interviewed him, weeks ago, he told me about the personal crisis he is suffering with humor and the existential doubts that gnaw at him about whether parody strips away the powerful or consolidates it, once the people have gone wild. But today he is seen with genuine happiness, not at all imposed, with an almost childlike glow. Of course, when I point out to him everyone who has come, he immediately jumps out: “You see, we’re establishment!”
Among the people who arrive, Sílvia Orriols, of whom it was doubtful whether she would attend. Her caricature is not at all friendly, but the batlessa of batlesses dominates the scene and where others say that they are not quite seen in her imitation, she takes the opportunity to celebrate that no sanitary cord has been applied to her. Already in the theater, it is common to see lively heterogeneous conversations, such as that of former councilor Anna Simó and the euphoric music producer Jordi Cubino, who laugh together at the oddities.
The 90 minute show works like thunder. This is not a simple filmed episode, but there is much more ambition. Soler was reluctant to show off, for all his self-indulgence, but, happily, he was persuaded. And, to avoid this danger of hanging medals king size as if they were Andrew the Magician, next to the celebration of the most remembered gags or the imitations that have made history there were also moments of self-criticism. It was the case of one of the surprises of the night: The Amics de les Arts performed a humorous song in which they remembered resources that the program used at the beginning and not so much at the beginning and that political correctness has been banning, such as painting actors to play black characters – now actors who are naturally black are hired -, having men play women or some moment of body shaming which would now be outlawed.
The Corporation itself was not spared the critical review and the program’s Ricard Ustrell came down from the stage to the audience and, when he met Councilor Albert Dalmau, before planting the microphone he dropped: “It’s a coincidence that the first person I meet is a socialist!”, ironically with the affiliations of the presenter of Catalunya Ràdio’s morning magazine. The imitation was not there – it is not known if he had any other painting to hang – but his rival Jordi Basté did attend. The one from RAC1 left in mid-gala, for the sake of sleeping a little before the program, not without first participating live in one of the gags.
From the private team, Óscars, Dalmau and Andreu also joined the party, from The competitionto reminisce about their days as writers on the show. For one night, there was a certain Polish truce between the Corporation and the Godó group radio, after the tensions of recent times. The nostalgic were happy to see again Bruno Oro mercilessly incarnate his Ángel Acebes, who is still convinced that “it was ETA”, and Carlos Latre had three golden minutes with a Josep Lluís Núñez who took a cover of his heart when he speculated about running for the presidency of Barça again and discovered how much the joke costs nowadays.
Other high points were the scenographic game between Queco Novell and four of his imitated presidents: Pasqual Maragall, Carles Puigdemont, Salvador Illa and Mariano Rajoy. The interaction was very natural and it was hard to see that it was filmed on video, which required two days of shooting to synchronize the dialogue and reactions of all four characters and their carnal author.
The end of the party came with the real Artur Mas taking the stage and saying: “Don’t you miss something?” while he put on some sunglasses and the first bars of the Mas style. He didn’t dare to dance while the “Sexy lady” alongside Duran and Lleida, but it was a colophon that left the bar high and with a desire to see if everything that had happened in the room was transferred well to the screen and that was still the conjuration of the feeling of the tribe of this poor, dirty, sad, disorganized homeland: laughing at the dead and who watches over him, at the funding that never arrives and at Rodalies that, twenty years later, are still not functioning.
