¡Azucar! The Portrayal of Celia Cruz

    ¡Azucar! Celia Cruz’s famous catchphrase perfectly describes the way I feel whenever I get to watch Celia, the telenovela I have selected for this class. After only a few episodes, I knew I had chosen the perfect show for me. As a bionovela, Celia combines the traditional melodramatic telenovela elements with a storyline inspired by the life of Celia Cruz, a monumental Cuban singer. I started this telenovela in the hopes of learning more about such an instrumental figure in the Latin music industry, and though I have to recognize that Celia does contain fictional details, I have not been disappointed. In fact, I have been astounded by the sheer contrast between the journey I expected and the details that have been presented to me.

In the first episode, the audience is introduced to Celia at the height of her fame, performing in front of a large and excited crowd. Her hair and outfit are flamboyant, her singing is loud and clear, and her demeanor is brilliant and bold. She appears to be a born performer, which is why it’s so shocking when the audience travels back to her past in Cuba. As a young woman, Celia is reserved, to the point of appearing awkward. She wears modest dresses and minimal make-up, especially compared to her cousin Noris. Her grand presence as a performer is nowhere to be found as she shrinks from attention—until she sings, that is. Indeed, singing is the shining connection between the woman the audience knows Celia will be and the woman she is now. There’s a release when Celia sings for a crowd in the first episode, like she’s throwing open the curtains to her soul.

The following episodes further demonstrate the drive hidden within Celia. Although she is highly aware of her father’s orders against singing, she holds onto her dream by secretly escaping to hear her favorite band play and planning to participate in a singing competition. As a dark-skinned woman from a poor family, she’s deemed inferior by Cuban society and discouraged from her dreams by her own father; however, she subverts her cautious role in order to secure an opportunity for happiness. Celia may be disadvantaged, but she’s not a simple Cinderella relying on Prince Charming to save her from her position in life. She is cautious, but driven: a star waiting for her chance to shine. 

Speaking of the prince, Pedro Knight—the male protagonist—is far from the traditional telenovela love interest. He’s a womanizer, for starters, and proud of it. In the first few episodes, he has to escape from an official because of his relationships with both the official’s wife and daughter. After arrogantly dodging the official’s shots, he falls through the roof of a building and hurts his hand, which he needs for his job as a trumpeter. Not to mention, he quite literally calls women “his prey” and states that “the less cute [a woman] is, the easier the attack.” In short, he is not the respectable man the audience expects from a telenovela. However, it is important to remember that this show is a bionovela, and though the real Pedro certainly had his lustful adventures, not all of the dialogue can be attributed to his figure. In fact, his relationship with Celia makes for an uncommon element in telenovelas: the lead actors are both darker than traditional light-skinned protagonists. He may act like a scoundrel in the beginning, but there’s no doubt that he and Celia share chemistry, especially when she’s able to dance freely with him in the third episode. 

There are, of course, plenty of conventional telenovela tropes to be found in Celia. The character of Alberto, for example, fulfills the role of the close friend who is secretly in love with Celia. Lola serves as Celia’s best friend who lives in a different socioeconomic level. Celia’s father acts as the disapproving parent while her mother is her secret confidant, and Celia’s cousin Noris serves as the jealous troublemaker. Still, Celia continues to add elements of realism within these stereotypical roles. Despite her kind nature and wealthier status, Lola suffers from the unwanted sexual advances of her stepfather. Celia’s father recognizes Celia’s talent yet demands that Celia act like a proper woman, despite cheating on his wife with a prostitute. Celia and her family continue to love Noris, even though Noris continually uses Celia or purposefully gets her in trouble. Although not all of these characters were truly figures in Celia Cruz’s life, I am still intrigued to see how they play into the development of Celia’s success. Noris’s infuriating behavior and Lola’s terrible situation are like hooks within the story, continually pulling me.

A couple episodes is certainly not enough to obtain the full picture of a telenovela, but they are definitely enough to fascinate the audience. By watching Celia, I’m not only entertaining myself and fulfilling a class requirement, but also getting a glimpse into the grand picture of the Queen of Salsa. The audience and I already know Celia will become an international star: it’s the way she lived, not the peak of her life, that fascinates us. As I continue to watch this show, I hope it upholds the legacy of the one and only Celia Cruz.