Italian
Comic Takes Summer Break, and Radio Fans Mourn
by Elisabetta Povoledo
Rosario
Fiorello, star of the popular Italian show “Viva Radio 2.”
ROME,
Aug. 15 — The season’s end of the wildly popular radio program “Viva
Radio 2” has left millions of Italian listeners feeling bereft and
disconsolate.
The show’s popularity lured many famous guests — sports, music and movie stars — to the Rome studios of the state broadcaster RAI to take part in the madcap madness, a mix of talk-show banter and improvisational cabaret, pushing ratings through the roof.
Mostly, though, devoted fans are pining for their daily dose of the show’s star — Rosario Fiorello, better known by his last name alone — and the menagerie of Italian celebrities he so uncannily mimics, from former Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi to the growly-voiced Sicilian best-selling author Andrea Camilleri to the model and singer Carla Bruni.
“Don’t
leave us orphaned for too long,” wrote a blogger named Mary, musing on the
Fiorello-less months stretching before her. Sarah Nichele, who runs a Web site
devoted to Fiorello, said that many people had written to convey “how empty
their lives were” now that “Viva Radio 2” is off the air.
The
show will not return until October.
Fiorello
was surprised to hear that a non-Italian paper was interested in interviewing
him. Apart from a bit role in Anthony
Minghella’s 1999 film, “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” he hasn’t exported
his shtick outside Italy. (“Can I use the opportunity to say hello to some
of my friends in America?” he asked, reeling off a Hollywood A-list that
included John Turturro, John Travolta, Sylvester Stallone and Dustin Hoffman).
But
here he’s a superstar, and one of the country’s most popular showmen. In
recent months he’s been on the cover of several magazines, including the
Italian edition of Vanity Fair, a popular women’s gossip magazine and
Famiglia Cristiana, a widely read Roman Catholic news weekly.
And
it was Fiorello who, on live television, wished the Italian soccer team good
luck on behalf of the nation before it kicked off the first game.
Fiorello,
46, is a former D.J. and television entertainer. Despite past successes, he
has no intention of returning to the small screen, for now.
“People
say that when I left television for radio, I was going backwards,” he said.
“But I see it as a step forward. It shows that in Italy you can use inferior
means to get tremendous results.”
He
also does funny celebrity endorsements for Fiat and for Infostrada, a
telephone company. He just recently came out with a reading of one of Mr.
Camilleri’s books on CD.
“The
Fiorello phenomenon,” read the cover of the Catholic magazine.
Actually,
the real phenomenon is that he has managed to breathe new life into an old
medium. “If radio is alive, if it’s at the center of the interest of
experts and advertising investors, it’s above all because of Fiorello,”
Aldo Grasso, the media critic of the Milan daily Corriere della Sera, wrote in
June.
Fiorello,
Mr. Grasso continued, should be credited with “bringing back the most rare
and least technological good that exists: talent.”
At
Radio Due, home of the lunchtime show (which runs again each night and the
next morning), the mood is buoyant. “It broke records,” said Eodele
Bellisario, deputy director of the channel, citing high audience shares and
some two million radios tuned in each day.
“It
was the event of the year,” he added, even though “Viva Radio 2” had
just finished its fourth season.
Marco
Baldini, one of the main writers, explained the show’s popularity: “It’s
because we have fun together. Even at 46, we’re still horsing around.” Mr.
Baldini has cast himself as the straight man to Fiorello’s verbal
metamorphoses. “And we try not to be vulgar,” he added.
compilation
CD would not go to the top of the charts.
In
less than a month, it had reportedly sold 60,000 copies.
But
“Viva Radio 2” is not all lighthearted banter. The show is topical. Daily
meetings start with scouring the newspapers.
“You
can’t be detached from reality,” Mr. Baldini said during a telephone
interview. “The ideas just happen.” The two stars regularly rail against
various social problems.
Still,
it’s clear that above all Fiorello and Mr. Baldini have fun doing what they
do, and the fun is infectious.
Wearing
a baseball hat, military pants and sneakers, Fiorello bounded into the studio
before the taping of one of the last shows of the season and exuded good cheer,
a knack held over from his start as an entertainer in tourist villages.
With
10 minutes to go before taping, he took time to sign autographs, shook
countless hands and was immortalized with admirers on dozens of digital
cameras and cellphones. The same routine was repeated after the show.
With
barely a pause during 75 minutes on the air, Fiorello periodically went in and
out of his various personae. A talented singer and performer — he is
currently on a stand-up tour that has reportedly been seen by 350,000 — he
excels at impersonations poking gentle fun at quintessentially Italian foibles
and politicians.
Fiorello
said that feedback from his subjects had always been positive. “Berlusconi
is smart; he knows that it’s to his advantage to be imitated and poked fun
at,” Fiorello said.
In
fact, he said, he got letters from the supporters of Romano
Prodi, Mr. Berlusconi’s foe, demanding that he be imitated too. Fiorello
complied.
One
of his new characters is the recently elected president of the republic,
Giorgio Napolitano. “Two minutes after Napolitano was elected, we were
already working on southern stereotypes,” Mr. Baldini said.
Fiorello’s
impersonation of the last president, Carlo Azeglio Ciampi, whose mandate ended
in May, was rewarded by an on-air phone call from Mr. Ciampi. The politician
unexpectedly called during a show in the spring, thanking Fiorello for
“keeping me in line.”
The
radio show has become so popular that Italian newspapers have reported on
“Viva Radio 2” clubs, groups of friends that met daily to listen to the
broadcast.
“When you capture people over time, you become a friend of sorts,” Mr. Baldini said. “You get into their hearts.”