The return of Marta Gómez Montero to RTVE on Monday, two days after she walked off “Malas Lenguas Noche” accusing presenter Jesús Cintora of humiliating her 1, should have been the network’s biggest story of the week. Instead, it was nearly buried by the network’s own counter-programming: the triumphant premiere of “Grand Prix” on La 1, which brought back the beloved 1990s challenge La cucaña alongside a new co-host 5. The juxtaposition reveals a network trying to paper over a crisis of workplace culture with a thick layer of nostalgia.
The Gómez Montero incident—a live on-air humiliation that went viral, prompting apologies from both Cintora and RTVE president José Pablo López 1—is the kind of reputational wound that festers. The journalist’s return is a fragile truce, not a resolution. Yet RTVE’s leadership clearly hopes the feel-good ratings of “Grand Prix” will shift the conversation. The premiere saw Polinyà defeat Cantalejo 36–19, but the real victory was the return of La cucaña, a greasy-pole challenge that functioned as a communal memory trigger for a generation of viewers 5. Ramón García, the show’s veteran host, now shares the stage with Lalachus, a younger co-host meant to signal renewal 5. It is a calculated bet: that the warmth of shared cultural memory can insulate the network from the cold reality of its internal dysfunction.
This strategy is not without precedent. Mediaset España, RTVE’s direct competitor, is playing a similar game. On July 13, the company released a 20-second promotional teaser for “El Rosco,” the iconic final round of “Pasapalabra,” signaling its return to Telecinco 6. The promo—showing UFO-like circles assembling over Madrid to form the 25-letter circle atop Mediaset’s headquarters 6—is a piece of pure brand mythology. It is also a legal gambit, as the show’s format remains entangled in a long-running rights battle 6. Mediaset is betting that the audience’s emotional attachment to the game will override any confusion about which network owns it.
The risk for both networks is that nostalgia is a finite resource. Audiences may cheer the return of La cucaña or the promise of “El Rosco,” but they are also consuming the news about Gómez Montero. The unresolved question is whether a beloved game show can rehabilitate a broadcaster’s institutional credibility. The consequence that matters most to the reader is this: in the battle for Spanish television, the networks are treating their archives as a shield. The real test will come when the novelty fades and viewers ask whether the people behind the screen are being treated with the same care as the shows on it.