Why ‘Sabado Gigante’ had to end

We don’t hold wakes when cultural art forms die. But if we did, we’d have to start planning a big one for “Sabado Gigante,” whose 53 years on air make it the longest-running variety show in television history. The recent announcement that the program will stop running in September marks the end of a once dominant form of entertainment.

“Sabado Gigante” began as a Latin American homage to vaudeville, an even older style of comedy. This connection to the seemingly distant past may be why the end is nigh for “Sabado Gigante” and the career of its 74-year-old-host, Don Francisco (whose real name is Mario Kreutzberger).

“Sabado Gigante,” which debuted in Chile in 1962 and is now produced in the U.S. by Univision, still pulls in good ratings. The show is the top-rated Spanish-language Saturday night program in the U.S., reaching about 2 million viewers. Syndicated to 40 countries, “Sabado Gigante” has been a ubiquitous presence throughout Latin America. But the managers of Univision are focused on the future. The show’s core demographic is aging. According to the latest ratings, the program reaches only 307,000 viewers in the coveted 18-to-34 age bracket, and the show has lost about 30 percent of its audience in the past six years.

If you’re like me, a television viewer who is 54 or older, you know that only a few companies want to reach us — the ones hawking insurance and Cialis. In commercial television, the younger demo matters, much more than total viewers. And although “Sabado Gigante” has been a constant presence on my various tours of Latin America, it is pitched at a generation older than mine. Frankly, it is miraculous that it survived this long. Perhaps Don Francisco’s fans were praying novenas asking for divine intercession for the program.

When I think of “Sabado Gigante,” I think of my uncle, who was a fan of the program. Perhaps it is no coincidence that he died a few months ago. The cruel reality is that you can’t do much to save a program whose main demographic is shrinking because of mortality.

Much has been written about how “Sabado Gigante” appealed to Latino households. At its peak, 80 percent of Chileans watched the show every week. But how did it appeal to my uncle, who spoke no Spanish? He said he was drawn to the slapstick humor and the passionate singing, though he probably also appreciated the curvaceous Latinas in skimpy outfits. Don Francisco’s leering sexism was part of the culture of television during the formative years of the program, but naked machismo is now one more sign of its anachronism.

The show’s closest surviving English-language peer might be “Saturday Night Live,” which recently celebrated its 40th anniversary. Critics have also accused “SNL” of preserving a creaky and outdated format. Although “SNL” is called a sketch comedy program rather than a variety show, its musical performances, comic monologues and mix of recorded and live segments mark its similarity to “Sabado Gigante.” “The Tonight Show” and “The Late Show” also have a comparable program structures, reflecting their common source in vaudeville comedy.

The biggest difference becomes obvious when comparing program hosts. Jimmy Fallon has reinvigorated “The Tonight Show,” and “The Late Show” is about to get its own cultural reboot from Stephen Colbert. (Colbert, incidentally, performed somewicked parodies of “Sabado Gigante” on his old program, “The Colbert Report,” as did Fred Armisen on “SNL.”)

Although “Sabado Gigante” experimented with co-hosts, no one could replace Don Francisco. Kreutzberger owns the copyright to the program, so he was not about to let someone take over his duties. What would the program be without his booming baritone and his expressive eyes bugging out of his face during comic bits? Would it be the same without his lowbrow, kitschy and often chauvinistic humor?

Once it was obvious the program had appeal beyond Chile and the Southern Cone, Don Francisco and “Sabado Gigante” made the leap to Miami and Univision in the 1980s. Univision’s distribution system made it available through most of Latin America. Although you wouldn’t see the program in Cuba or Nicaragua during that decade, you couldn’t escape it whether you were in a Sanborns in Mexico City, a hotel restaurant in Tegucigalpa, a coffee shop in Panama or a convenience store in East Los Angeles.

“Sabado Gigante” provided the involuntary soundtrack for my tours of Latin America for much of the past 30 years, especially if I was traveling alone on a Saturday night. My uncle knew that, and the program became a point of engagement and conversation when we met. The appeal must have been the same for generations of Latino households: Even if the younger generations didn’t enjoy the show as much as their elders did, it gave them something to debate. With my uncle gone, it finally seems fitting for Don Francisco to sign off.