The little house of Bad Bunny and the revenge of the 'snot-nosed kids'

PalmaAt the last festival in Malaga, journalists asked an influencer invited by the organization to recommend a title. “A movie? How boring?” she replied to the reporters and the two million followers she has. All this on the red carpet of a film festival.

Directors and actors demanded that intruders not be invited to these events. The problem is not that they attend, but that journalists grant them an entity that only photographers see. There has always been an ornamental aristocracy of entertainment. Ojete Calor invented a perfect term to describe it: ‘mocatriu’, a hybrid of model, singer, and actress. And there have been such figures at the Goya galas, for example, since their beginnings. Misses who presented galas produced by José Luis Moreno and who acted as mujer florero by the arm of businessmen or, luckily, with their own standing. When someone dared to give them a microphone, they gave us pop culture pearls like “estar en el candelabro”, by Sofía Mazagatos, and I don't know if it was her or another ‘mocatriu’ who swore she had read the three volumes of The Lord of the Rings.

The ‘mocatrius’ and their male equivalents (overly muscular pseudo-actors in need of a speech therapist) are the spice of events; the fair of faded vanities that used to fill gossip magazines and now, stupid reels.

I read with fascination controversies of content creators I don't know and whose videos I've never seen. I like the idea that they exist only in writing to be able to imagine them from a narrative. The latest is a certain Lola Lolita, angry because, as she claims, another girl allegedly stole her place at La caseta de Bad Bunny, the VIP stage that recreates a humble and colorful construction from Puerto Rico where first and fifth-rate celebrities move around at the concerts of the most global artist of this era. The most coveted carpet without a carpet of the moment.

The one who did have the front-row spot, close to the camera to twerk, defended herself like an aspirant to Showgirls: “She is frustrated because she couldn't be in front to be filmed”. And she added: “I don't live in Spain, I live in Switzerland. I don't know the famous people from Spain either, so I had no idea who this girl was”. Glorious. They don't know about cinema, nor do they need to. Long live the sass queens.