The work of Berta Giraut and Ester Villamor puts us in front of an uncomfortable mirror: that of all those women who have spent their lives archived, acting as mothers or servants. They have been the ones who sustained the wheel of the show from invisibility while the spotlights and applause always fell on someone else.
La segona millor and the washing machine: the loop of interpretation
The play begins with a woman going down to the basement, to a place where she keeps all the belongings and objects that have accompanied her throughout her career. In this setting, Alfonso Ferri's set design places the washing machine in the center: an appliance that spins round and round with frenetic energy to end up doing, exactly, the same circuit.
This is precisely what happens to our protagonist: she is always spinning in the world of show business and acting, and she is already starting to feel dizzy and wanting to get off this eternal roller coaster. This is the toxic love-hate relationship that Giraut dissects on stage: a profession that hurts you, that makes you dizzy, but that you would choose again and again if you were born again.
Talent locked in the downstairs apartment
Here, in the darkness of the basement, we see different "seconds" parade: women who have played roles of mothers, servants... actresses who have never been protagonists and who have never been given the opportunity to demonstrate their full potential.
It is in this gloom where she finally releases her talent and creativity, letting herself be carried away by fantasy. We see the speech of having won an award or snippets of scenes interpreted with strength and guts, but everything stays down there, locked in the downstairs apartment while, upstairs, someone is singing loudly and triumphing under the spotlights.
Berta Giraut's acting work is immense and cathartic; she drags herself, screams and opens herself up in an exhibition of talent that is, in itself, a vindication of her place on the scene.
The importance of the "seconds"
La segona millor is a monologue in a comedic tone that claims the role of these actresses who are not the protagonists, but who are also part of the show. It is a difficult role to digest, which always gives you the feeling of being about to touch the sky... but the moment never comes. Dealing with this hope for so long makes you, finally, consider abandoning your career.
This is what happens to Berta Giraut, who at the end of the play opens up to explain her love-hate relationship with theater: a toxic relationship that hurts her, but one she would choose again if she were born again.
The risk of losing the thread in the metaphor
Despite the power of the message, the play runs a significant risk in its execution. The text draws from a poetic and metaphorical language that, while giving it moments of absolute brilliance, also ends up generating a certain narrative chaos. The succession of disconnected scenes and isolated monologues can overwhelm the audience, who sometimes find themselves searching for a common thread that never clearly arrives.
It is one of those pieces where the form ends up devouring the content. If the spectator does not arrive "read" from home with the synopsis, it is easy to get lost among so many voices and characters. The rhythm, consequently, becomes heavy at times where confusion wins over emotion.
A necessary B-side
The most interesting thing about La segona millor is, without a doubt, its bravery. Talking about frustration, failure, and this 80% of the profession that lives in the shadows seems to be shameful, but it is a brutal reality that needed to be put on the table.
Despite its fragmented structure that can disorient, it is an exercise in brutal honesty that any theater lover should see to understand what lies beneath the stage.