Apparently, the new bullfighting normality was the protagonism of a festive, festive, boisterous and ear-loving public. That was the one that yesterday took Emilio de Justo out of the Puerta Grande and sang the heterodox scenography of an Antonio Ferrera more concerned with breaking the norm and imposture than with real bullfighting.
Two ears for De Justo in the fourth was a prize more than excessive; as was the return to the ring to the bull, who made a very unequal fight in rods, went to the horse, charged with a python and nodded too much.
An absurdity started in the laying and crowned by a devalued box.
De Justo is a good bullfighter, of course he is, and he showed it drop-wise with that fourth bull, the noblest and most mobile in the last third, which went from less to more, which he muleteer with both hands in short and short runs. accelerated and of little depth. Only at the end were emotional natives and a set of forehand right hands that ended in a disarmament put the finishing touches to a clearly incomplete work, crowned with a somewhat detached thrust.
He had received his first with a pair of chicuelinas in the hydrant after a few initial flip-flops with his leg bent. The task was prolonged in excess, bewitched, it is true, of beautiful imperfections due to the short onslaught of the animal. They stood out, yes, four beautiful natives at the beginning, and as many from the front and feet together when the bull had long ago asked for death. A fallen lunge was not an impediment for this applauding audience to ask for the ear. The sixth, very outcast and noble, only attracted attention for his astifine pythons. De Justo made one last effort and stole some worthwhile crutches that drove the staff crazy.
The Antonio Ferrera thing is another story. Time has attracted attention for the beauty of a heterodox scenography from which a new and surprising bullfighting emerged. Now, that grace tends to become an imposted, superficial and bland bullfight. He seems more concerned with gestures than depth, and that current moves to the lines with the same speed that good bullfighting does.
From the outset, he demanded that the stripes of the third be repainted, perhaps discolored by the wind, and minutes later he violated the Regulations by ordering the picador to stand in the media to punish a meek who had fled in the first two encounters.
The fiddling in that first was commendable due to the roughness of the animal, but everything was left in an insipid hodgepodge of some deep right hands and the figure forced excessively with the crutch on the left foot. He stood far, far away, when it was time to kill, the bull obeyed the trot and the thrust came from the back.
Meek, bland and faded was the third, and opinions were divided after a work after some elegant details before a lifeless animal that came and went without breath in its entrails.
Without class the fifth, discouraged the bullfighter, missed with the sword and their work as a whole was left in a worrying silence.
The junior Antonio Chacón was the protagonist of a high-flying bullfight with the cape before the first and with the flags in the fifth.