Different, very different, almost at the antipodes. If Amadeus was the perfect representation of Baudism, Carlo Conti is nothing more than Mike Bongiorno. The first lover of the concept of elevation to power, the second most inclined to the synthesis and practice of drying up. In the sense that the more shipped you go, the better.

For Amadeus the festival was an event and, as such, different from any other appointment, both by form and by substance. And so, if an ordinary program lasts, Sanremo could only extend to one hundred and fifty. To underline the gap, to mark a distinctive feature, to be able to proudly wear the exceptional medal with respect to the rule. With Conti, however, the first evening closes at 1.20, lasting less than an episode of Dancing with the stars and greeting before the GF.

Not that the specific weight is necessarily measured with the minute, we would miss it. But it is symptomatic of a practice that cannot (and must not) be valid for Ariston.

“We are slightly in advance, which does not hurt,” he jokingly replied to Antonella Clerici, who perhaps wanted to amplify the moments of Cazieggio with the landlord and Gerry Scotti.

Instead no. Because Carlo version Mike (with the addition of greater self -irony than the historic king of the quiz) had the ladder studied by memory, without unscheduled and cherry cherries to be grafted during the course of work.

Amadeus enveloped you, gave the idea of ​​wanting to hold you back, that he wanted to share the experience to the end. The implied message was “not free you before 6 hours, we have to be together”. Conti transpires the haste, runs, explicitly confesses that he wants to go to sleep early.

Two opposite approaches. The Conti method applies subtraction. There is less empathy, the involvement is reduced to the bone. From home you have the perception that is leading for itself, not for a very popolous community, increasingly in love with that occasional collective rite in an era in which everyone has his own personalized schedule. Carlo’s primary objective is to deliver the homework, perhaps in advance of the roadmap, to show others ‘examined’ their ease of execution.

The Premiere di Sanremo 2025, which hosted the performances of all the 29 singers in the race, squeezed the eye to the Eurovision. Which, however, cannot be used as a comparison. On the other hand, the festival has never been a cold and rapid succession of performance. Sanremo is also (and above all) side dish, that side dish that often does substance.

Nobody regrets the comic parenthesis ends in themselves, the talk with Scajola, Bersani and the workers of Termini Imerese, the exhausting monologues called to mask the absence of ideas. But between an elongated soup with water and ferocious squeezing there is a middle ground.