Except that those who live with their cell phones in their hands did not rant about her on Twitter, but on X, the television Christmas Eve has been exactly the same as all the television Christmas Eves that this writer can remember. The networks have devised a model that, in view of the lack of variations, seems to work perfectly for them, but offers less excitement than the broadcast of the 12-1 to Malta with which Teledeporte delighted us on Thursday to commemorate its 40th anniversary. There was as little chance that Señor would not score the team's twelfth goal as that tonight we would not meet Raphael, Alaska or Ana Mena during some zapping.
TVE continues to be the only one that puts meat on the grill. Thirty-three editions have Telepassion faithfully attending his appointment. Blessed be the effort, it is the only program of the night that helps us differentiate one year from another — and also allowed us to discover in its first editions the fascinating facet crooner by Pedro Piqueras. The loss of weight of the public chain is evident in how difficult it is each year to recognize the participants. It's not worth making blood, Telepassion It must always be valued for the enthusiasm of its protagonists, the effort of the costume and production departments and above all for arrangements such as those given to us by the cast of The promise dancing to the rhythm of Sonia and Selena: “When the afternoon comes, I fall in love with the series, I want to dance on Christmas Eve, I want to dance on The promise”. It will be difficult to take the Marquises of Luján seriously again.
The Ente has also not missed the usual two galas for artists and their friends. That Raphael is always there begins to seem suspicious, but if there is a theory that defends that all actors are six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon, why not all Spanish singers are going to have the one from Linares on speed dial. Let's not break the fictional pact.
Pablo López and his endless songs without chorus starred in the first special. The former contestant of Triumph operation It is a spectacle in itself, if their pianos could talk they would ask for a restraining order, not even Jerry Lee Lewis has mistreated them so vigorously. The suffering with which he interprets each song is closer to Marina Abramovic than to the light pop spectacle that is assumed. Although they run in the background because no one at home pays much attention to the festive programming, it is not a good idea to get lost, these specials are the box of chocolates Forrest Gump, You might as well find a Sebastián Yatra as you find Trevor Horn, one of the most influential producers of the eighties, scoring a medley of versions of his elegant compositions. This morning we heard Horn and López sing Avalon, the Roxy Music classic. It has happened, we have seen it.
After Pablo López's existential anguish came the true kings of the night. They didn't give any speeches, they don't need them, after two chords of Wild Heart We are no longer facing a table of half-empty cava glasses, peladillas cornered on dessert plates and plastas in-laws, but rather the happiest festival in Spain. Camela is a state of mind, it is synonymous with everything that is right in the world. Stop looking for lyrics to the Spanish anthem, let's better assume When love sets sail like the only song that can unite us all. A special for Camela for her 30 years on Christmas Eve is not enough, she deserves a daily program that balances the pH of happiness in the country. Ángeles and Dioni did not need to call any friends—among the many who passed by were Alaska proclaiming herself a camelist, and María Peláe taking to the skies Unattainable dreams— because we were all singing with them.
Verónica Dulanto and Christian Gálvez were in charge of hosting the traditional space containing recorded performances on Telecinco, a classic of the most special night of the year, as Gálvez was eager to repeat with an enthusiasm that I imagine must be difficult to fake on a Monday in March. 10 in the morning, which is when these things are usually recorded. The Fuencarral chain has almost completely forgotten about music on its schedule, but one night a year all the artists from Spain and part of abroad parade before its cameras, almost literally. Last year, one of the most memorable moments of the gala was the one starring the likeable Omar Montes, who urged viewers to “invest in drinking water because it is a scarce commodity and there is only a third that can be drunk, since the other is from the sea and cannot be drunk.” This year the IBEX 35 held its breath in anticipation to see what essential good Pan Bendito was going to propose to speculate on, but in a twist lostian After the events, Montes recommended reading about stoicism “because it helps you overcome everything.” It won't take us long to discover that Montes is our Tony Clifton, the great Andy Kaufman's brilliant joke. One day he will take off his mask and underneath will be Miguel Noguera or Ignatius Farray or both of them very tightly packed.
Antena 3, for its part, has not even had to spend its money on presenters, it has reached the end of the year with such an advantage over its competitors that it has not even appeared, it has limited itself to putting the tape with the best moments of their best programs and lie down and wait for the Pedrochazo.
Those who wanted to escape the splendor of the most special night for Christian Gálvez have found refuge in the younger sisters of the big chains. Cuatro has dedicated a double program to Julia Roberts and has broadcast Notting Hill and pretty woman, and they have been almost 40 times since its television premiere on TVE in January 1994, but let's see who gets tired of Héctor Elizondo giving protocol lessons: “Four points, meat,” I repeat to myself at all the banquets. The Sixth, for its part, has chosen to worry us. On the night of consanguineous meetings par excellence, among the thousands of titles at their disposal they have chosen Glimmer Manin which, according to its synopses, the incombustible Steven Seagal “must catch a dangerous serial killer named The homebody for their habit of murdering entire family groups.” There is a programmer at Atresmedia who needed a hug tonight.
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