The 'Polònia' comes to life in a historic gala to celebrate twenty years

BarcelonaAt the Victòria Theatre, this Monday the magic wasn't provided by Mago Pop, but by Polònia. The hall was packed for the gala celebrating twenty years of this program which is the backbone of TV3's schedule. In Catalonia, if it's Thursday, paella in bars, and on television, Polònia... unless football frustrates it. There are nerves in the team, because the show about to begin will be recorded and will become the episode that has been seen this week. The technical challenge is enormous and, moreover, if this political satire space has normally shown quick reflexes when current events have required it, today the entire lineup had to be shaken up due to two particularly significant absences: Pep Plaza had to leave a few hours ago to attend to a serious family circumstance and Judit Martín has a flu that has knocked her out.

On the red carpet, the Minoria Absoluta team welcomes celebrities, politicians, and friends. Toni Soler ends up in the center of most photographs, as the creator of the format. When I interviewed him, weeks ago, he spoke to me about the personal crisis he suffers with humor and the existential doubts that gnaw at him about whether parody strips power bare or consolidates it, once the people have had their say. But today he looks genuinely happy, not at all forced, with an almost childlike glow. Yes, when I point out everyone who has come, he immediately jumps in: "As you can see, we are the establishment!"

Among the people arriving is Sílvia Orriols, whose attendance was in doubt. Her caricature is not at all kind, but the mayor of mayors dominates the scene and where others say they don't quite see themselves in their imitation, she takes the opportunity to celebrate that no sanitary cordon has been applied to her. Once inside the theatre, it is common to see lively, heterogeneous conversations, such as that of former minister Anna Simó and the euphoric music producer Jordi Cubino, who are laughing their heads off together.

The 90 minutes of the show fly by. It's not a simple filmed episode, but rather much more ambitious. Soler was reluctant to do a gala, due to its self-congratulatory nature, but fortunately, they convinced him. And, to avoid this danger of hanging medals king size like Màgic Andreu, alongside the celebration of the most memorable gags or the imitations that have made history, there were also moments of self-criticism. This was the case with one of the surprises of the night: Els Amics de les Arts performed a humorous song in which they recalled resources that the program used in its early days and not so early days, and which political correctness has gradually abandoned, 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 that would now be proscribed.

The Corporation itself was not saved from critical review, and the Ricard Ustrell from the program came down from the stage to the stalls and, upon meeting councilor Albert Dalmau, before planting the microphone, let slip: "What a coincidence that the first person I meet is a socialist!", ironically alluding to the habits of the host of the morning magazine on Catalunya Ràdio. The imitated person was not there – it's not known if he had another picture to hang – but his rival Jordi Basté did attend. The RAC1 host left halfway through the gala, so he could get some sleep before the program, not without first participating live in one of the gags.

From the private station's stable, Òscars, Dalmau, and Andreu from La competència also joined the party, to recall their time as scriptwriters for the program. For one night, there was a certain Polonian truce between the Corporation and the Godó group's radio station, after the tensions of recent times. The nostalgic were happy to see Bruno Oro once again mercilessly embody his Ángel Acebes, who is still convinced that "it was ETA," and Carlos Latre had three golden minutes with a Josep Lluís Núñez who suffered a heart flutter when he speculated about running for president of Barça again and discovered how much that joke would cost today.

Other memorable moments were the scenic 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 tell that they were video recordings, which required two days of filming to synchronize the dialogue and reactions of all four characters and their flesh-and-blood creator.

The finale arrived with the real Artur Mas coming on stage and saying, "Don't you miss something?" as he put on sunglasses and the first bars of Mas style began to play. He didn't dare to dance while Sexy lady" played next to Duran i Lleida, but it was a climax that set the bar very high and left us wanting to see if everything that had happened in the hall would be well translated to the screen, which was nothing less than the conjuring of the tribal sentiment of this poor, dirty, sad, unfortunate homeland: laughing at the dead and the mourner, at the financing that never arrives and at a Rodalies that, twenty years later, still doesn't work.