Low audience and a lot of repetition in a format that makes water

How many things does it represent Marcelo tinelli eating two alfajores together? It is his mouth, open to the Joker, glued to a microphone, the symbol of a way of being on TV, and his image is that of the one who had the power to set a media agenda that generated thousands of pesos, twin programs, enemies and satellites, figures, scandals and iconic moments, like that of a president confusing his departure from the studio or a rock band smashing instruments live.

In 1990, he was the one who started chatting on the air while commenting on sports, then describing bloopers (and installing this word in our dictionary “alive”) with his off-camera buddies and haranguing them to celebrate jokes even if they are basic or ” funny “at the expense of the despair of others.

He invented that way, branched it out to exhaustion, founded his own production company to become independent from television channels (and bill his SOPs directly) and made mockery a breath that included several nervous spasms, but always the assurance that the public , on the other hand, accompanied the delirium of laughing at that time when the dishes are already washed and the only thing left to do is relax to rest. Tinelli is the one who sets your house on fire but then gives you another one, just for the pleasure of seeing your emotions change. But some of that humor no longer resonates with audiences: this week, Showmatch measured 7.2 rating points, a number well below what the owner of “Good Night America” ​​is used to.

Videomatch, Ritmo de la Noche, Dancing for a dream in all its formats (Skating, Singing) … Tinelli cannot be summarized in one image and it is, at the same time, that single image of the chabón with the microphone in front of him and voices and laughter that encourage you to go a little further. Always absorbed, with a strange, distracted air, as if he found out live all that his team was doing during the day. He with Xuxa, with Menem, with a boy or girl on his lap, testing the nerves of those who cross him, hitting the dinosaur Bernardo, talking to a dog and making the dog do what he wants, a symbol of The ’90s but also survival in that way, with the effort of slightly changing the shell but replicating the procedure: haha ​​to the difference, to what is out of the norm, drool over the hegemonic bodies of women and envy for the loins of the men, loyalty of iron with the team and those of outside are of wood. Tinelli is himself and his own trivialization, he is his machine to generate money and who, after a long agony, destroys it by repetition and exhaustion.

On May 18 of this year he returned to the screen with his show of stars dancing, no longer for a dream but to “learn” how to do it, that is the excuse, and his bad mood is so evident that he climbs, every night, to unlock new levels of pathos. From the cut of skirts to posing with the Ni Una Menos poster, in three decades Tinelli flirted with the politically correct, sexual and corporal diversity, becoming the canchero, the inclusive and the modern one (the good father with the tattoos) and nurtured his own career as a sports leader and candidate by dint of the loyalty of an audience that still could not bear it, accompanied him with the rating. Legal abortion, transvestite quota law and equity in the media widen the distance with their last times of leadership, the one in which we did not know the word coronavirus nor was it debated what so many people locked up were doing together.

The post-pandemic world seems to have learned through blows something about how to deal with illness and death, and the performance of the best-known entertainment on our TV turned slow and sour, and the leader, opaque and grumbling, bullying live who wants to wear a chinstrap. Tinelli has already apologized for the sins, he was ashamed of having cut the clothes of the participants to see them one more gram of ass and he reinvented himself a thousand times being the same, with that spasmodic laugh and the cliché of “gentlemen” to refer to the entire audience. However, this season he forced Mar Tarrés’ partner on the dance floor to give him a tongue kiss just for the curiosity of someone “normal” kissing a fat girl. Or the copado was done with a group of drags that, splendidly mounted on the side of the track, expected Marce to make them parade live, but he continues to play sickly jealousy on his partner when he acts as a jury or his eyes fill with tears when they pass greetings for the dreamers, the same ones who laughs when they speak softly or bravado when he bet money to put it in the hoop (again!)

Last week, a participant sang “I am not that woman” by Paulina Rubio and the screen heavily lit photos of famous female figures from history? Ana Frank between Mercedes Sosa and Oprah Winfrey would have been hilarious if it were not the clear indication that Tinelli’s is a stale show, already out of date, that cannot be sustained under its own weight.


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