The Writer, the Hieress, the Teacher, and her Lover

by Timothy Perrin

Each afternoon at five, Terre is having una aventura sentimental, a love affair, with Salvador, her hunky, long-haired Spanish lover. Salvador’s other lover is the muy bonita Isabel, mistress of the house where Salvador is chauffeur. Isabel only recently married Andre then brought Salvador along on the honeymoon where Andre abandoned him at sea in an inflatable boat. Then there is Walter, the bald butler, and una tia loca, a crazy aunt. Walter has a secret; the aunt has an imbalance in her brain chemistry.

These are the characters on the trashy Spanish soap opera El Cupero del Deseo, The Body of Desire. Every afternoon at 5:00, we sit down for our daily Spanish lesson, 60 minutes of passion, drama, bad makup, and overacting—a lot of overacting. But the story is simple, the dialog well enunciated—usually—and the subtitles clear. And if Salvador and Isabel are easy on the eyes, well, that’s just a bonus.

The show is fun everyday. We always get a good laugh or two, particularly from the music. Whoever does the music seems to have discovered the “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!” key on their new electronic keyboard, and that is all they know how to use. A favorite shot on the show is a closeup of someone’s face as they get “the news” as the music goes “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!” This being a soap opera, the same news is often good for several “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!” sequences. First, one woman picks up the telephone. ¿Qué? ¡No! What? No! “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!” Then, ten minutes later, someone else gets a phone call. ¿Qué? ¡No! “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!” Eventually, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, we’ll get to hear the upsetting news. “Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!”

Another quirk of the show is that the character played by the top-billed actor has been dead for some time. He has not appeared in a single episode that we’ve watched in our four weeks here. In fact, we just caught the opening credits for the first time last Friday and wondered who the heck he was. He doesn’t even have to show up to be a corpse from time to time. Now that is an easy gig. I wonder how much they have to pay him. I want his agent.

But our favorites are Walter and the aunt, partners in crime, and, because their parts are so cheesy, they actually feature two of the better actors on the show because they have to walk the line between farce and drama. With too much eye makeup, both of them have to do several close-up big-eye scenes in each episode, scenes sure to be reprised in tomrrow’s flashbacks and already previewed yesterday.

Walter, it seems, is on the run from his past, and to prove it, he has kept the newspaper clippings, complete with his “this man wanted by police” picture. Why? Don’t ask me. I’m only a former criminal lawyer. Then again, my experience with criminals tells me he’s not that unusual. They’re not the brightest bulbs in the marquee.

And the aunt. Well, what can you say about a woman who’s got her hands in everything—and I mean everything. She is the ultimate fifth business, the character whose job it is simply to keep the kettle boiling, and she’s one hell of a heat source.

And all this is actually in service of a good cause: our ability to speak Spanish. It really helps. No. Really. Aw. Come on. I mean it. Now don’t give me that look. It does help. It does.

Hasta mañana.

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