As often happens in this type of production, the most interesting thing about ‘Locoma’ is not so much what it exposes as what beats below what it exposes (and what it doesn’t manage to expose). The story is interesting, but the subtext is even more so. So their three highly entertaining episodes leave us wanting to dig deeper…and let them talk more. Because the more they talk, the more you want to know. You want to hear them. Especially the founder of the group, Xavier Font, and the producer who put them on stage, Jos Luis Gil. In fact, the series is clearly marked by the pulse between these two antagonistic and clearly conflicting characters in body and soul, thus tracing its condition as an essay on the commodification of art. The usual and eternal conflict between the one who considers himself an artist and the one who is considered a merchant. Good and evil. Or chaos and order, what too. And in this case, with great honor and without shame. ‘Locoma’ benefits in this sense from the apparent sincerity of those present, showing itself as an agile and honest chronicle that, in addition to tracing the rise and fall of said group through the revelations of those who experienced it first hand, also works as an x-ray of a time when Spain was struggling to be modern. Or at least to seem so. All of this makes ‘Locoma’ a fairly complete, entertaining and above all revealing “soap opera” for those who, like me, until now have reduced everything to a passing fad and a few colored fans. However, even having the opportunity it seems that the series avoids going in for the kill and leaves more than one biting their tongues, leaving us with the bittersweet feeling that even being totally satisfactory, it could still have let them talk much more. And with the conviction that here could be a film as stimulating as the one that Sacha Baron Cohen was not allowed to make about Freddy Mercury.
By Juan Pairet Iglesias
@Wanchopex
