Life (in Miami) is a lie
By Varela
In the late 1990s, an executive producer at Telemundo conceived the idea of an original serial comedy in the style of ¿Qué Pasa, U.S.A.?, a stew based on Spanglish, a multicultural Miami, and local political pranks, in mild doses.
It would be called The Mayoress and dealt with Miami’s first woman mayor. City Hall was approached and agreed to make available certain areas for videotaping, although the mayoress’ office would be a studio set.
The mayoress would be played by Olga Guillot, who had already accepted the role. The cast, both Hispanic and American, was up to her high standards and the director was good. The mayoress’ home would be Guillot’s own. She had made it available.
To write the initial script, the producers hired two famous comedy writers whose plays had been shown on Calle Ocho.
But as soon as Guillot read the script, she rejected it. She didn’t like the bawdy or sexist jokes or the way the writers depicted her character, with clichés dealing with Santería, witchcraft or voodoo, rites and religions that the singer did not practice.
The Telemundo producer asked me to write a second script, and I asked to speak to Guillot. Our telephone contact was entertaining and we chatted for about an hour, because my maternal surname is Guillot and she explained to me its origins (from Catalonia by way of France, according to her). She spoke most of the time, which was what I wanted.
Guillot accepted my script. I remember that I put a grand piano in City Hall, and had the mayoress carry a rolled-up felt boa. The plot said she had ordered the construction of a tunnel to compete with Havana’s; it lacked an exit because of a budget shortage. Olga was greatly amused by it all.
The project got the green light but ran into high local costs of production. And it was shelved.
Later, in 2007, we agreed on another project, this time the creation of a local newspaper that would compete with El Nuevo Herald. Guillot was one of the sponsors. She invited the whole staff to a Sunday luncheon at her home. I had been asked to be the newspaper’s cartoonist but didn’t go to the luncheon, which earned me a rebuke from the singer, through the newspaper’s editor. That project also failed, when one of the main investors – a Venezuelan – pulled out.
Later, in April 2009, Olga and Omara Portuondo – both in the twilight of their lives – made peace in the Dominican Republic during a bolero festival. They embraced and even sang a few lyrics a capella. Then, the usual haters and recalcitrants began to attack Guillot, because Portuondo has always defended the Cuban government and has never left her homeland.
The criticism abated, but months later, in August, the 85-year-old lady was again drawn into the limelight during the hoopla over Juanes’ concert in Havana.
Guillot was invited to appear in the Channel 41 program A Mano Limpia, hosted by opportunist Oscar Haza, to explain her embrace with Portuondo. Sadness in her voice, Guillot said that she doesn’t deny a hug to anyone, but, to allay any doubts (and knowing the kind of pickle she was in) she proceeded to make a politically correct speech.
It was pathetic that a star of her magnitude, in the twilight of her career, had to explain with whom she meets and whom she greets anywhere else in the world, living, as she was, in an American city.
And the most ironic part of it was that Omara Portuondo was not forced in Cuba to explain on television why she embraced Guillot.
To make matters worse, on Monday, the day Guillot died, Oscar Haza’s program, under the guise of an homage to the singer, replayed the images of the singer emphatically agreeing with the Miami ultraright. What’s downright scandalous is that it showed those images without explaining that she was defending herself from an accusation.
Channel 41 shows Olga Guillot’s public lynching as her political testament. Very typical of the Miami farce.
I would say to her, in the words of a song she immortalized, Olga … what does it matter … life is a lie.
Born in Cuba in 1955, José Varela was an editorial cartoonist in Miami for 15 years, with the magazine Éxito (1991-97) and El Nuevo Herald (1993-2006). A publicist and television writer, he is a member of the Progreso Weekly/Semanal team.
