A review of "El Puntero". When fiction becomes a mirror of politics - [ESP/ENG]
⚠️ Atencion, posible SPOILER ⚠️
⚠️ Attention, possible SPOILER⚠️
Bienvenidos a un nuevo post para los amantes del cine y de las series, hoy hare una "review" de la serie "El Puntero", una serie argentina lanzada en el 2011 y que hoy día puede llegar a mostrar una realidad que aun duele, y representa una herida que no cicatrizo, les dejo el link de la serie que la encuentran en Prime Video.
Welcome to a new post for movie and TV series lovers. Today I'll be reviewing "El Puntero," an Argentine series released in 2011 that today can show a reality that still hurts and represents a wound that hasn't healed. Here's the link to the series, which you can find on Prime Video.
Source Link Film Prime Video
El Puntero no fue una ficción más de la televisión argentina. Estrenada en 2011 (a 10 años de una de las cosas más duras que pudo pasar la argentina luego de la dictadura) la serie puso sobre la mesa lo que muchos preferían barrer debajo de la alfombra: cómo funciona, en las sombras, la maquinaria política en los barrios.
A través de la historia de “El Gitano”, vimos algo que no era solo entretenimiento. Era una radiografía dolorosa de la política clientelar, esa que se mete en la pobreza no para transformarla, sino para administrarla y sacar provecho de la misma.
Y lo impactante es que, aunque pasaron más de diez años, la serie sigue teniendo vigencia. Porque los mecanismos que mostró siguen funcionando, incluso con otros nombres, otras caras y otras banderas.
El Puntero wasn't just another Argentine television drama. Premiered in 2011 (10 years after one of the hardest things Argentina could have gone through since the dictatorship), the series brought to light what many preferred to sweep under the rug: how the political machinery in the neighborhoods works, in the shadows.
Through the story of "El Gitano," we saw something that wasn't just entertainment. It was a painful snapshot of clientelist politics, the kind that invades poverty not to transform it, but to manage it and profit from it.
And the shocking thing is that, even though more than ten years have passed, the series is still relevant. Because the mechanisms it showed continue to operate, even with different names, different faces, and different flags.
En la ficción, El Gitano aparece como un hombre con poder en el barrio, pero su poder no viene de títulos ni diplomas. Viene del vínculo directo con los vecinos como también con los del poder, de repartir planes, de conseguir remedios, de mover influencias. Es alguien que “resuelve”, aunque sea a costa de reproducir la dependencia para aquellos que no ven el más allá de las situaciones.
Sociológicamente, la figura del puntero es clave para entender cómo funciona la política territorial en Argentina. No es solo un personaje turbio: es el engranaje que conecta al Estado con los sectores populares. Sin punteros, muchos no acceden a nada; con ellos, lo que se accede nunca es suficiente.
La serie muestra esa contradicción sin romantizar, demostrándonos (sin spoiler) que quien se mete en este "rubro" termina enfermando por querer hacer el bien.
In the fiction, El Gitano appears as a man with power in the neighborhood, but his power doesn't come from titles or diplomas. It comes from direct ties with the neighbors as well as those in power, from distributing plans, obtaining remedies, and using influence. He's someone who "solves problems," even at the cost of reproducing dependency for those who don't see beyond the circumstances.
Sociologically, the figure of the "pointer" is key to understanding how territorial politics works in Argentina. He's not just a shady character: he's the link that connects the State with the popular sectors. Without pointers, many people have no access to anything; with them, what is accessed is never enough.
The series portrays this contradiction without romanticizing it, showing us (no spoilers) that anyone who gets involved in this "business" ends up getting sick from wanting to do good.
Desde lo psicológico, la relación entre puntero y vecino es compleja. El vecino pide porque necesita, y el puntero da porque quiere ayudar, pero eso genera o dependencia, o bronca por aquellos que quedan afuera de esa "repartija".
El Gitano encarna esa lógica con maestría: no es un monstruo, no es un santo. Es un hombre que entendió que el poder no está solo en los cargos, sino en la administración de la necesidad. Y esa es la parte más perturbadora de la serie: nos muestra que la miseria también puede ser un recurso político, pero no es ninguna novedad.
From a psychological perspective, the relationship between the political boss and the neighbor is complex. The neighbor asks because he needs to, and the political boss gives because he wants to help, but this creates either dependency or anger toward those left out of the "share."
El Gitano masterfully embodies this logic: he's not a monster, he's not a saint. He's a man who understood that power lies not only in positions of power, but in the management of need. And that's the most disturbing part of the series: it shows us that poverty can also be a political resource, but it's nothing new.
Uno de los temas centrales es la política del favor. Nada se consigue porque es un derecho: todo se consigue porque alguien lo “bajó”. Un colchón, un medicamento, un plan social, hasta un trabajo en la municipalidad: todo pasa por las manos del puntero.
Eso genera un círculo vicioso: los vecinos dependen, el puntero crece, los políticos de arriba se sostienen con este apoyo "vacio de representacion", llamado asi por el pobre conocimiento de la realidad, del fin de cada accion tomada a sus espaldas.. Todos ganan algo, pero nadie se libera. Y la serie tiene la crudeza de mostrar que incluso quienes se benefician terminan atrapados en esa red de favores envenenados.
One of the central themes is the politics of favors. Nothing is achieved because it's a right: everything is achieved because someone "lowered" it. A mattress, a prescription, a social plan, even a job at the municipality: everything goes through the hands of the "panderer."
This creates a vicious cycle: residents depend on it, the "panderer" grows, and the politicians at the top are sustained by this "representative vacuum," so called because of the poor understanding of reality and the purpose of every action taken behind their backs. Everyone gains something, but no one is free. And the series has the crudeness to show that even those who benefit end up trapped in this web of poisoned favors.
El Puntero es ficción, pero cualquiera que haya vivido en Argentina sabe que no está inventando nada. Es un espejo incómodo de cómo la política, en lugar de resolver la desigualdad, la administra para perpetuar el poder.
Julio Chávez quien representa al Gitano, con su intensidad, convierte a El Gitano en un personaje inolvidable. Lo odias y lo entendes al mismo tiempo. Y ese es el punto: el puntero no es una caricatura de héroe. Es alguien con carisma, con contradicciones, con una humanidad que incomoda.
La serie no se queda en el estereotipo fácil: muestra también el lado emocional, las dudas, los costos personales de ese tipo de vida.
El Puntero is fiction, but anyone who has lived in Argentina knows it isn't inventing anything. It's an uncomfortable reflection of how politics, instead of addressing inequality, manipulates it to perpetuate power.
Julio Chávez, who plays the Gypsy, with his intensity, turns El Gitano into an unforgettable character. You hate him and understand him at the same time. And that's the point: El Puntero isn't a caricature of a hero. He's someone with charisma, with contradictions, with a humanity that makes you uncomfortable.
The series doesn't stick to easy stereotypes: it also shows the emotional side, the doubts, the personal costs of that kind of life.
Algo que me llamó la atención desde el principio es cómo la serie muestra la psicología colectiva del barrio. Los vecinos saben que El Gitano no es perfecto, pero creo que de corazón los ayuda para que las cosas cambien, o al menos algunas.
Es una forma de resignación: aceptar la dependencia como parte de la vida. Y esa resignación es el terreno donde crece la política clientelar. Desde la sociología, podemos decir que ahí opera lo que Pierre Bourdieu llamaría “violencia simbólica”: una dominación que no necesita fuerza bruta, porque está naturalizada en lo cotidiano. (No diré a que se relaciona en Hive...)
Something that caught my attention from the beginning is how the series portrays the neighborhood's collective psychology. The neighbors know El Gitano isn't perfect, but I think he genuinely helps them change things, or at least some of them.
It's a form of resignation: accepting dependency as a part of life. And that resignation is the ground where clientelist politics thrive. From a sociological perspective, we can say that what Pierre Bourdieu would call "symbolic violence" operates there: a domination that doesn't require brute force because it's naturalized in everyday life. (I won't say what it relates to in Hive...)
Today, more than a decade later, watching El Puntero still hurts. Because what it portrays isn't the past, it's the present, thanks to the return of neoliberalism. In many neighborhoods across the country, the figure of the puntero remains key, necessary, and inevitable.
The series functions almost like a covert documentary: it exaggerates to dramatize, but never so much that it becomes unrecognizable. What it shows isn't science fiction; it's the daily lives of thousands of families.
Today, more than a decade later, watching El Puntero still hurts. Because what it portrays isn't the past, it's the present, thanks to the return of neoliberalism. In many neighborhoods across the country, the figure of the pointer remains key, necessary, and inevitable.
The series functions almost like a covert documentary: it exaggerates to dramatize, but never so much that it becomes unrecognizable. What it shows isn't science fiction; it's the daily lives of thousands of families.
El Puntero nos obliga a mirar de frente lo que muchas veces negamos: que la política, en demasiadas ocasiones, se construye sobre la necesidad de los más vulnerables, de palabras de Evita Perón "Donde hay una necesidad, nace un derecho" y que mientras esa necesidad exista, los punteros seguirán teniendo lugar.
Lo interesante es que, al humanizar al personaje, la serie también abre una puerta: la posibilidad de imaginar otra política, una donde los favores no sean la moneda de cambio, donde los derechos no dependan de la voluntad de un intermediario.
Como toda buena ficción, El Puntero nos devuelve preguntas más que respuestas. Y la más urgente de todas es: ¿hasta cuándo vamos a aceptar un sistema que necesita de punteros para funcionar?
El Puntero forces us to face what we often deny: that politics, too often, is built on the needs of the most vulnerable, in the words of Evita Perón, "Where there is a need, a right is born," and that as long as that need exists, the "punteros" will continue to exist.
What's interesting is that, by humanizing the character, the series also opens a door: the possibility of imagining another kind of politics, one where favors aren't the currency of exchange, where rights don't depend on the will of an intermediary.
Like all good fiction, El Puntero raises questions more than it answers. And the most urgent of all is: how long are we going to accept a system that requires "punteros" to function?
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