Shortly before her meeting with this newspaper, in a luxurious hotel in the center of Madrid, Lolita went out to smoke. While looking for a corner where to go unnoticed, she has come across a waitress who came and went, came and went. "Won't you have a plastic bottle? It's not to throw the cigarette butt on the ground," he asked. "I've become aware, of course," he recalls later, during the interview. In her latest role, Lolita has gotten into the skin and uniform of a housekeeper. And that makes a difference.
SkyShowtime's new original series has some comedy, quite a bit of drama and a touch of musical. No, Lolita doesn't sing, but she does dance. And clean, go if clean. "The mother who gave birth to him, what a pig people are," says his character, Espe, the first time he appears on screen. You can almost smell alcohol through the screen: bottles, dirty dishes, garbage everywhere. The room is a dunghill. That is what Las invisibles is about, the daily struggle of women who clean, an all-out war against the disregard of those who leave everything disgusting in their wake, but also against a system that exploits them without mercy. And all that without disturbing. Normal that Lolita has thought about the cigarette butt.
Everything starts with a voice-over, that of Pilar, who wanted to be a dancer, perform in the best theaters in the world, receive the applause of the general public and break a thousand hearts, "but it could not be". "10 minutes per room, my sad record is 32 rooms in one day," he says, until his body says enough and collapses. "Mind you, in the bridal suite, like a queen."
Pilar's death brings with it a tidal wave at the Hotel Calliope, somewhere on the Mediterranean coast. We will not advance anything concrete, but we will advance Las invisibles is clearly based on real events. And if not, ask the kellys who came to thank Lolita for the voice she has lent to her collective in the presentation of the series during the Malaga Festival. "I am lucky to have repeated in many hotels for my profession, and I have met wonderful people who have made me the room and with whom I have gained confidence," she says, and warns: "There are working-class people who have a culture that does not reach an upper class, the world is full of counterpoints."
"The dialogue between education and money is always very present in the series," says her co-star, María Pujalte, who recovers her more Galician accent to embody Isabel, a woman in full menopause who tries to survive loneliness, precariousness, and the care of a lost bullet brother. "They're professionals, mothers, caregivers," the cast describes. And besides, they are older.
There is a tragicomic moment in the series that sums up well the intention of its creator, Héctor Lozano. The housekeepers exchange pills like stickers: anxiolytics, anti-inflammatories, analgesics, everything is little to mitigate years and years of intense physical work, daily humiliations and fighting against an environment designed for enjoyment without taking into account the suffering involved. Pilar already regrets it while dreaming of high, light beds with wheels, "a sign that the one who designed them has not made one in his fucking life."
María Pujalte says that Lozano's empathy is noticeable as soon as you read the script. He knows it well, he was already at his orders in Merlí: sapere aude: "He has a great facility to write about characters that could be any of us, so he has portrayed this group very well, both at work and in family, where care is a central theme, "says the actress.
This portrait in eight episodes of 45 minutes has a deep feminine gaze: women in charge of husbands, brothers, grandchildren, women who face the changes of age, who fear illness, who fall in love again much to their regret, older women threatened by the energy of the youngest, but who in the end converge in a story of friendship, of pure sisterhood. For Lolita, this is a simple circumstantial point: "It's about the housekeepers, who are mostly women. It's not a feminist series or something made for women. It's a series made for the family." Period.
We said a few lines above that Las invisibles is tragicomic and musical. Lolita and Pujalte themselves mark a choreography to the rhythm of Umberto Tozzi's Gloria that comes out of a transistor in the middle of a market that rejuvenates anyone. "I have a theory," says Pilar from that sky in which she follows the lives of her friends, "we stop being young when we stop dancing." The housekeepers, forced not to exist despite being essential, become visible to the rhythm of the classic discos. Nice metaphor for a series that focuses on a collective that has managed to jump to the headlines in its own right.
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