We had to wait over 4 years, watch 5 seasons and spend sleepless nights watching dozens of episodes to find out how the biggest televised robbery of the third millennium, the one at the Bank of Spain. That is, not so much if and how the big coup ended, but instead knowing what the fate of the gang of robbers would have been at the time of the most followed theft in streaming in over 120 countries around the world.
First things first: last week we told you about the start of the fifth (and possibly final) season of The paper house distributed by Netflix. Already from the first day, December 3, success was immediate and guaranteed: according to Comscore, the conclusion of the series was among the Netflix TV programs with the greatest following in Italy and "on the day of its release, the percentage of connected devices has grown 15 times”.
We have now reached the heart of the great coup: it is a question of letting everything out the gold of the Spanish National Reserve, the “extraction and extraction” of which would lead the country to bankruptcy. And this will be the keystone to close the adventure, but not before having seen an inferno of fire and shootings worthy of the best war films unleash. With one more small but fundamental difference: when, at a certain point, you see a scene with rain falling from the open ceiling, it is real rain and not artificial as often happens on the set. In the same scene we see a subject lighting a cigarette under water with great difficulty: it's all true. Likewise, when you see the metal melting in the crucible to transform itself first into grains and then into ingots, it is a real fusion made by real smelters loaned for the occasion as extras. And so on, highlighting another key to the success of the card house: the absolute verisimilitude of what is proposed on the scene and in the entire story, including the daring way used to get the gold out of the Bank.
Now that we have seen and known how it ended we can only say that "they all lived happily ever after" without taking anything away from the surprise for those who have not yet seen the last episode and still don't know what happened to the gold and what will be the fate of the gang members. But in the meantime, we can tell you about two documentaries connected to the series (again on Netflix) which, even on their own, deserve to be seen: the first was made last year with the title "The paper house: the phenomenon” and the second is broadcast in parallel with the airing of the fifth season and the title “From Tokyo to Berlin“. Briefly, the two films tell us and summarize that the first seasons (the coup on the Mint) represented a more "technical" narration while the last ones proposed a more "emotional" story even if skilfully always accompanied by a lot of action.
The first video highlights the imprint of the first seasons, or of the first robbery of the Madrid Mint. As known, the great coup succeeds and the gang enjoys the fruit of so much effort. Already from the first episodes it is immediately understood that La casa di carta is not the usual story of a robbery but the story of a group of robbers dressed in dazzling red overalls who love each other, are nice and empathic with the public, intertwine stories of love and sing "Bella ciao" with the Salvador Dali mask. The success of the television series was not immediate but it followed a continuous ascending parabola and the story became more and more compelling as it unfolded. It is likely, as argued in this first documentary, that the improvisation that often occurred in the writing, in the screenplay, as well as on the set, was another key to his success.
The second documentary, on the other hand, contains all the historical and sentimental part of the characters which, however, also constituted a large part of the success of the whole series. It traces the story of Professore, of his vices and of his virtues, and his past and his future are well understood: “I am the son of a thief, I myself am a thief and I hope my son is a thief”. The traits of the most important women are then seen against the light: Úrsula Corberó (Tokyo), Itziar Ituño Martínez (Inspector Raquel Murillo), Alba Gonzalez Villa Flores (Nairobi) and finally a sumptuous one Najwa Nimri Urrutikoetxea (Alicia Sierra) who have supported the architecture of the story which, usually in this kind of film, is predominantly male.
But all the other protagonists would be wronged as far as each one, without distinction, has had a strong influence on the general economy of the story and for this reason has received great success in the interests of the public. At the center is the Professor (Álvaro Antonio García Morte) with his mind always busy planning the impossible on the one hand and managing the unpredictable on the other and, in between, all his passions and attentions to women who first they try to hunt him down and then they approach him instead. On the opposite side the Colonel Tamajo (Fernando Cayo) who never manages to truly be the "good" he should or the "bad" he could. Around the central figures, throughout the series since its inception, there has always been a vast chorus of figures, people, individuals, where everyone has played a dual role: good and bad at the same time, never too bad and violent to be hateful and never even so good because they are still outlaws and still armed and aggressive robbers. The same police or army never seems completely "tough" as it should be, let alone as "good" as it is portrayed.
Now that (perhaps) The paper house is over and waiting for the spin-off on Berlin, one of the fundamental protagonists, and of the similar series that will be made in Korea, it can be simply stated that when the ingredients of a story are skilfully mixed (accurate texts, very high level of acting, direction and shooting technique) the product is inevitably strong and compelling. We can add an element that raises the bar of competition: the use of large capitals spent on production as only the Hollywood majors can afford and as they have taught well when they make big blockbusters for the world market. It wouldn't have been the same paper house if they hadn't been able to count on spending without budget limits. But it wouldn't even have been the same card house if, at the end of the story, both the protagonists (inside and outside the story) and the spectators hadn't felt a twinge of emotion at the thought that the adventure was over. But this feeling is priceless.
