There is no program on television that has reflected as well two Spains as survivors. The two true spains: The baby boom and millennials. They coexist in ir set universe of references of moderns of yesterday — we, those of EGB — with those of new — y, those of ESO or those of or. A clash of conceptions of world that crystallizes in an astonished Francis saying secuencer for influence — poor man does not yet know how to call his worst enemy on island —.
Jorge Javier — who is from EGB and philology — knows it and even exploits it. He insists on getting out of his sleeve impossible references for his contestants. There is real generation gap: When he compares Alejandro Albalá with Philippe Junot and boy reveals his ignorance. "And who is he?" "Son, Mine... The husband of Caroline of Monaco." Albalá nods as if he had placed himself, but a void in his azulísimos eyes betrays bewilderment.
Jorge Javier's head is a cross of trunk of Piquer with Aleph. He fits all black and white movies and songs that Grandmors sang. It comes to his mouth as he presents, as dolls with spring in surprise boxes. "You look like Aurora Baptist in Love Madness," she exclaims. And Island boys short. Especially, Sergio. The influencer, has no more cinematographic school than filters of Instagram and window of YouTube. Only Master Joao, a being of anor time with an iconography chiseled into rock of CinemaScope and Great divas, understands what Jorge says. And game follows. And if you ask him to make Ursula Andress in Doctor No, magician emerges from waves like Venus. He has winning Jorge Javier: His audience is more like nostalgic people who know unfortunate story of Juana la Loca that millennials amnesia.