Love After Music Review 2023 Tv Show Series Cast Crew Online
The new Argentinian Netflix series, El amor después del amor, embarks on a nostalgic journey into the past of Fito Páez, one of the greatest references in national rock and one of the most influential in Latin America.
Series directed by Felipe Gómez Aparicio and Gonzalo Tobal, written by Francisco Varone, Lucila Podestá and Diego Fío.
National television biopics, which have become fashionable in recent years, seem to strictly follow an unwritten but self-imposed manual, flattening themselves before a strange mixture that results in a withering cocktail for any script:
-Terror to possible judgments of the mentioned people. -Imperious need to reach a mass audience, more accustomed to classic open TV fiction than to complex narratives or that try to go a little further.
Love after love fits perfectly into this wave of productions, but what it lacks in originality it makes up for by differentiating itself with the poetry that it imprints on its story, in a clear creative decision that emotion take precedence over action.
It is a more than successful decision because, combined with the repertoire of magical lyrics born from the mind of Rosario, it creates an emotional bomb for all followers of his career. Any historical failure, questionable performance or feeling of seeing more of the same fades before an emotional connection rarely achieved by this type of local productions.
The series lives up to its title beginning in 1993, with the concert presentation of El amor después del amor , a record that marked the definitive consecration of Páez. From there he travels to the past to learn about the key moments of his childhood, his birth in 1963, the events that marked him and guided him on his way.
Those 30 years are the narrative arc of the season, too many to cover without leaving the feeling of a thick stroke in the face of the infinite number of characters that surround the protagonist’s trajectory. Perhaps many deserved more depth, but the series does its best so that each one has at least one scene that is relevant to them.
The structure, in its classicism, intersperses that childhood (where Fito is played by Gaspar Offenhenden) with his youth beginning in the world of music (now Fito in the skin of Ivos Hochman). The temporary twists and turns provide meaning, challenge and complement each other throughout the first half of the series. Most of them succeed in the mission, although at times they also become a drag, seeming to be more to comply with the chosen structure than out of a real need to contribute to what is being told.
In the second half, coinciding with the tragic deaths that plagued Fito, the series abandons the nostalgia of his childhood to insert itself into the darkness that disrupted his soul. He succeeds, once again, in changing his tone to narrate this period of fury that will break the Fito child and will shape the artist who created Ciudad de pobres corazónes , a song that has become a true cry of anger.
It is true that this stage could have been delved deeper, which receives only a superficial treatment, but it is clear that the intentions are different: since, like all idols, Fito Páez arouses passionate love and unbridled hatred, here he points to the first group . Every fan of his will be happy before a heartfelt tribute. If you belong to the second group, this series is simply not for you, since there is no room for deep criticism or to try to investigate controversial decisions in the artist’s life. This is something that should be clear from the start, being based on Fito’s memoirs and having Juan Pablo Kolodziej, his brother-in-law, as showrunner. Expecting otherwise would be deluded.
The series takes us to the fascinating moments where some of Páez’s themes emerged that became hymns. The search for those moments to be successfully transferred to the screen is underpinned by a tremendous soundtrack that is impossible to fail, delivering some of the most inspired scenes of the show. The climax will come with a successful sequence -like a Live Aid concert at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody- in the recital that connects with the first of the 8 episodes.
There is nothing to criticize about the excellent technical invoice, something that should not be surprising when faced with a Netflix budget and respecting the visual style that is given to its productions (someone should tell the platform -and Argentine productions in general- that It is about time they abandoned the use of drone panoramas to start all the series).
This good step for Mandarina Contenidos in fiction, being something new for the production company, has its best results in the field of interpretations. The two Fitos are true revelations: the candor of the Offenhenden boy and the eccentricity of the young Hochman give us a perfect picture of Páez.
To the flashbacks to the Rosario of the late 60s and early 70s, we owe one of the pleasant surprises of the series: Martín Campilongo (better known to all as Campi) in the shoes of Rodolfo, Fito’s father. The actor is pure sensitivity playing this long-suffering man, of whom we knew little but decisive with his melomania for Fito to become who he is.
Campi is just one of the many casting discoveries for El Amor después del amor , where without a doubt the highest peak is found in Micaela Riera as Fabiana Cantilo. She blurs the barrier between fiction and reality in such a way that we will forget that we are looking at an actress to see Cantilo herself.
Love after love, without discovering anything new narratively or historically, triumphs by prioritizing emotion and nostalgia while taking us on a poetic journey towards the origins of the idol.
