Rocco Casalino who decides who speaks and who doesn’t. The ritual, reversed, of nominations. A press conference, Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte presenting the Relaunch Decree, three Rai cameras, one on the prime minister, one on journalists, one on him -, 6 million and 640 thousand spectators, 25% share, the internal courtyard of Palazzo Chigi set up like a television studio, two microphones, a large carpet: red. And a question: when did Rocco Casalino get out of hand?
Giuseppe Conte, at the center, explained the Decree, then answered questions from the press. Rocco Casalino was a few meters away, only apparently out of the way, and marked the lineup of interventions. The first, elegant, composed, smart, a certain class. The second, condemned to always be out of context, bloated, decomposed, inadequate. The first, compared to politics, is a miracle. The second a parvenu.
The photograph that set the Saturday night press conference and that runs on all social media – a fake, because it was cut to shorten the distances between the two, but very true in his story, because it shows us all the off-stage – he says non-verbal communication by the government, and even on the state of the country, much more than Prime Minister Conte’s long speech.
Here he is Rocco Casalino, plastic representation of the incapacity in which we are sucked in, a master of politics that has become his deus ex machina. Arms folded, legs spread, a blank gaze and a vacant pronunciation, it seems to be tucked on a base, like a plastic soldier type that plays to be a Greek marble.
Rocco Casalino, a little spin doctor a little vigilant, is the watchdog who treats the owner. It is the prompter who has no ideas but listens. It is the eye-catching vigilance of the Vopos of the DDR-CasaleggioAssociati sr.l., it is the festively dressed televenditore that you know will end up cheating you, it is the unsuspected ex-competitor of the first GF who stood out rigid as a military guard a hostage. Giuseppe Conte is the kidnapped, but who will pay the ransom unfortunately we will end up being us.
In photography, perfect because it is manipulated, true in that it cuts the void and adds what would otherwise be missing, there is everything. The silent guardian of Power – but Quis custodiet ipsos custodes ?, who controls the controllers -, the glass panopticon beyond Big Brother, politics as an eternal reality show, the decomposed homoerotic setting of a truck driver with legs spread on the edge of the the street, the unkempt hustle and bustle of a gymnasium of Ceglie Messapica …
Just because politics is nothing, communication becomes everything.
A day ahead of World Homophobia Day, Casalino on Saturday evening expressed LGBT pride brought directly to the political stage. Of which he embodies the dark side: in the imagination of Italy at the time of the Five Stars he appears as the occult prompter, the bad adviser, the Vermilingual who makes Conte’s soul blacker …
The President of the Republic Mattarella rightly speaks of homophobic discrimination, but someone points out that in this country he commands Rocco Casalino … Who, instead of thanking the Wheel of Fortune, is offended because they judge him only for the GF. He does not realize that it is better this way. What if we judge him for the rest?
Rocco Casalino, out of envy for those with two degrees and a master, started from Frankenthal, Germany, from Apulian parents, and like Paolo Villaggio – Giobatta, who emigrated to the Netherlands – who seeks luck with the cry of kastanjakken !, he found Bengodi in Italy, on television, which is often the antechamber of politics. Or is it politics that is Big Brother’s confessional? And it got where it got. Not even Daria Bignardi could have dreamed it.
But Rocco Casalino is not a monster. He is not a Great Old Man, nor a dangerous Mephistopheles of communication.
It’s worse. It is the mediocre province, it is “one is worth one, and you are not a shit”, it is cynicism without even malice. It is the ignorance without embarrassment of a country that keeps the shot wide to keep Casalino on the pitch too.