Los Angeles Times

No looking back

After the last piece of confetti falls, ‘Sábado Gigante’s’ host will go back to being himself

- By Yvonne Villarreal

MIAMI BEACH — Mario Kreutzberg­er is maneuverin­g his white Land Rover down a one-way street. He’s driving slowly one moment, cutting off other cars the next, drawing honks from other motorists.

“These people get mad about everything,” he mutters in Spanish.

Perhaps they wouldn’t honk if they knew the man behind the wheel is no ordinary guy, but rather the man who transforms into Don Francisco every Saturday night as host of the longest running variety show in TV history — Univision network’s “Sábado Gigante.”

The 74-year-old Chilean-born TV personalit­y, who is Jewish, will be hosting Shabbat dinner on the eve of “Sábado Gigante’s” last show that airs Saturday night. A rabbi friend will be in town, and Kreutzberg­er has hit the streets to personally book him a room at a local hotel.

Other big-time TV personalit­ies would assign this chore to an assistant. But not Kreutzberg­er — he wants to make sure the hotel meets his standards, and that there’s no mistake on the date. A micromanag­er? Perhaps — but

it’s this kind of old-school, do-it-yourself ethic that has helped “Sábado Gigante” last more than half a century.

“I don’t know how it’s going to hit me,” he says of bidding goodbye to the show that occupied more than 2,800 of his Saturday nights. “I don’t think I’ll cry.” Others might. Every so often there’s a figure whose indelible mark on a generation of viewers shakes up the TV world by signing off — think Johnny Carson or Oprah Winfrey. Recent years have seen the cycling out of generation­al pillars such as Jay Leno from “The Tonight Show,” David Letterman from “The Late Show” and Jon Stewart from “The Daily Show.”

Kreutzberg­er as Don Francisco is just that sort of singular TV figure for the Latino community.

He is known far and wide for his booming voice and clownish persona just as he’s known for interviewi­ng political leaders and reuniting families. There are also the zany sketches and bizarre TV characters like El Chacal that have been a fixture inside millions of Latino homes.

For many immigrants and their children, the threehour weekly program served as a lifeline to the sort of high-energy entertainm­ent of their homeland and served as a unifier for the Latino diaspora. The show also triggered contention from some who viewed Kreutzberg­er and “Sábado Gigante” as anachronis­tic and offensive with its parade of scantily clad women and lowbrow contests.

Some of those thorny qualities were on display one recent afternoon during production on one of the final shows (which are a mix of live and pre-recorded segments). Outside the chaos of the production, a carefully coiffed and sharply dressed — though a bit fatigued — Kreutzberg­er didn’t shrug off addressing the criticisms that the show was too coarse, too chauvinist­ic and too corny.

“The most important critic is the audience,” Kreutzberg­er said. “If the audience leaves you, that’s the end ... But we are human. You do mistakes sometimes. And I did, I’m sure, many mistakes. But we did [the show] with passion.”

Polarizing opinions aside, it seemed as if “Sábado Gigante’s” run would be as everlastin­g as the confetti that often tumbled from its stage.

Its longevity is akin to how “The Simpsons” or “Saturday Night Live” have that eternal quality in the English-language market.

“It has been a very important show and Mario is a very iconic figure,” said Alberto Ciurana, president of programmin­g and content for Univision. “I don’t think there is anyone in the world with that stature. … He’s huge. So, of course, it’s difficult to see that come to an end. It’s been an amazing, long ride.”

The shifting viewing habits currently disrupting all of television caught up to the show that’s cycled through generation­s of fans.

Ratings have dropped sharply in recent years among young adults who are prized by advertiser­s. So far this year, it has averaged nearly 1.8 million total viewers and about 722,000 viewers ages 18-49, according to Nielsen.

But the nostalgic factor is expected to boost the finale’s ratings performanc­e Saturday night — the show will be broadcast live simultaneo­usly, for the first time, in the U.S., Chile and Mexico.

As with all of television, technology’s influence in viewing behavior, particular­ly with young viewers, is partly the cause for the disruption. Not to mention, there is a large percentage of bilingual millennial­s who are increasing­ly consuming their media in English.

Kreutzberg­er, whose offstage voice is decibels lower than his alter ego, is quick to note that changes are affecting every network show. He talks of how the viewer disruption has led to too many shrinking budgets.

“It’s more and more difficult to do something with a very small budget,” said Kreutzberg­er. “But that’s the reality. Everything has changed. Everybody is looking for viewers from 1849. And I have the idea that maybe you have to reach the audience over 50. But that’s only an idea, so far.”

His primary focus now, he said, is finishing the show that was born out of his fascinatio­n with Jack Paar, Art Linkletter and Ed Sullivan during his brief time living in the U.S. in his youth. But it’s not as if he needs a rehearsal.

“I think it’s the right time.... It’s the right, right time,” he said. “We don’t want to end when we are not on [top].” He thinks the changes hitting TV will stabilize in a few more years, but for his show “that’s too late.”

Planning for the show’s retirement was carefully thought out and began after its 50th anniversar­y in 2012.

Kreutzberg­er, despite his optimism for more, hinted in a 2012 Times interview that his age was starting to catch up with him.

“In my soul, it doesn’t feel like 50 years,” he said. “In my body, I can feel it. I don’t have the elasticity that I had 50 years ago.”

Kreutzberg­er had even toyed with the idea of having his daughter, Vivi Kreutzberg­er, take over once he retired to carry on the family business.

“Yeah, but my daughter has five kids, she lives in Chile, times are changing,” he said when asked what happened of that plan. “I don’t know if that was a good idea.”

Kreutzberg­er checked his three mobile phones as seamlessly as a millennial , then sat with his eyes closed as if to save up his energy for the audience. After all, they expected to see a boisterous circus leader.

When Kreutzberg­er finally made his way to the set, production assistants affectiona­tely greeted him as “Don Mario.” He waited in the wings quietly for his cue.

When he was introduced, the Don Francisco switch turned on. And the crowd cheered, just as they always have when his thundering voice calls them to attention.

Across the studio, on the set of Univision’s entertainm­ent news show “El Gordo y La Flaca,” host Lili Estefan fought back tears as she discussed the effect “Sábado Gigante” had on the Latino community.

“This is a guy that has a history that is never going to happen again,” said Estefan, who got her start as a model on “Sábado Gigante” when the show made its jump from Chile to Univision in 1986. “He was, at least for me, a rock. It’s hard. But that’s life. Everything has a beginning and everything has an end.”

Yes, “Sábado Gigante” is over. But Kreutzberg­er, despite his slowed-down demeanor, doesn’t plan to completely retire. He’ll host entertainm­ent specials on Univision and will help develop future projects for the network.

Saturday night’s finale might strike some as anticlimac­tic.

Univision executives wanted to give the show a proper send-off that was emblematic of its place not only in the network’s history, but its mark on Spanish-language TV.

The network hoped for an elaborate goodbye, with a studio audience in the thousands, to match the hurrah of what the show has come to embody for so many decades. Kreutzberg­er said no. “I have to end the program the same way I always did the program,” he said.

There will be some special guests in the studio that holds 250 audience members. One thing he conceded to was having a crowd of about a thousand people to cheer him on outside.

And on Saturday, he’s going to prepare for the live airing, which is being dubbed “Sábado Gigante – ¡Hasta Siempre!” (Giant Saturday – Forever!), just as he always does.

“I don’t like to look back,” he said. “I like to look forward ... because back is a story.”

 ?? Photograph­s by Mike Stocker
Sun Sentinel ?? MARIO KREUTZBERG­ER, a.k.a. Don Francisco, is bidding goodbye to “Sábado Gigante,” a show that occupied more than 2,800 of his Saturday nights.
Photograph­s by Mike Stocker Sun Sentinel MARIO KREUTZBERG­ER, a.k.a. Don Francisco, is bidding goodbye to “Sábado Gigante,” a show that occupied more than 2,800 of his Saturday nights.
 ??  ?? BACKSTAGE, Kreutzberg­er checks one of his three mobile phones as he prepares for a taping.
BACKSTAGE, Kreutzberg­er checks one of his three mobile phones as he prepares for a taping.
 ?? Mike Stocker
Sun Sentinel ?? MANY EXPECTED “Sábado Gigante’s” run to be as everlastin­g as the confetti that often tumbled from its stage, but ratings have dropped sharply in recent years among young adults who are prized by advertiser­s.
Mike Stocker Sun Sentinel MANY EXPECTED “Sábado Gigante’s” run to be as everlastin­g as the confetti that often tumbled from its stage, but ratings have dropped sharply in recent years among young adults who are prized by advertiser­s.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States