In front of a curtain full of sequins, two smiling and nice presenters, him in a tuxedo, her, a blondasse in a long and silvery evening dress, under dazzling lights, have two choirs that tune the national anthem. This is how "a show where no one loses" begins, as the two presenters euphoricly incite, "a show where you are us and we are you". The climate is that of the variety of Saturday night television, or if you want a mega-karaoke with the choruses that incite with the successes of Mina, Battisti, Eros Ramazzotti, Renato Zero and the public with them. "Singing is like making love, but nothing #me-too, huh?", screams at the microphone smiling the show-girl, between You I love Umberto Tozzi and Maybe because I love you of the Rich and Poor, between a pistol on how nice it is to have fun all together and a connection with Germany where in a dance hall other people sing, in an atmosphere gradually more and more tacky and delirious. But also violent, because soon from that joyful repert
