Dolores and the Commissioner

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Just like in those soap operas, in this audio there is a careful casting of voices and a script full of surprises

In my grandfather’s house there was a formidable radio that took up an entire bedside table. He was cornered by television, but he kept that arrogant and aristocratic look, almost arrogant, of the old Hollywood stars. It was treated with wheels on the bottom. It had a yellowish screen with names of outlying cities: London, Bogotá, Buenos Aires, Caracas. The conversations between Cospedal and Villarejo that the newspaper ‘El País’ dug up resembles a post-war radio series and I would have loved to have listened to them on that device, which has been lost between moves and inheritances. Just like in those soap operas, in these audios there is careful casting of voices and a script full of surprises. An announcer with a bombastic diction announces the day’s program: ‘Dolores and the Commissioner. Chapter 2.458’. Then the voice of Dolores is heard and it is the voice of a well-to-do girl, of a lady who is educated in paid schools and wants to hide something. There is in his tone a shadow of drama, the hint of a slip, a harbinger of storm. We imagine our hair with medium length hair, elegant, beautiful, restless. He talks to the commissioner, a tacky fellow, his voice punctuated by whiskeys and farias. You’d swear the commissioner is drinking a mixed drink from a highball glass in a highway brothel right now. The ice cubes collide. The commissioner reassures Dolores and tells her that yes, she goes on the lookout, while he winks at the waitress, who shows her tits in the air.

There is a meeting of two worlds in this fantastic series, a mixture of high and low, the final confirmation that ‘Torrente’ was not a hooligan, but rather a good documentary.

Source: La Verdad

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