GLEE! The Colgate Smile and the Dark Side.

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The Colgate Smile and the Dark Side

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The Colgate Smile and the Dark Side of the Choir: Looking Back at 'Glee'

By: Benjamín Gavarre

There are shows that the algorithm suddenly throws back at us, like a ghost from the past slipping into our Spotify playlists or through the connecting thread of an actor like Jonathan Groff (whom we recently analyzed in Looking, but who played the antagonist Jesse St. James here). Thinking about Glee today might seem like an anachronism, but looking back with perspective, distance reveals an alarming lack of sincerity that we once preferred to ignore beneath the blanket of grand choreography.

Glee (Fox, 2009-2015, 6 seasons) was born as Ryan Murphy's golden project. A series that made inclusion—racial, sexual orientation, and differing abilities—its main banner. However, viewed today, that happiness distilled a "Colgate smile": a cosmetic pretense of perfect teeth and flawless makeup where teenage suffering was always resolved by singing to the camera. Beneath that veneer of optimism, showbiz reality was far more perverse.

The 'Glee Curse': An Echo of 'Cachún cachún ra ra'

It is impossible to talk about this show without addressing the ill-fated destiny of its cast—a historical tragedy that inevitably evokes for Mexican viewers the fatidic myth of Cachún cachún ra ra, where misfortune and the HIV crisis claimed many of its young talents. In Glee, reality far surpassed fiction:

• Cory Monteith (Finn Hudson): The unforgettable boy in the shower, that jock with a finely-tuned voice discovered by Mr. Will Schuester (Matthew Morrison) singing under the water in the pilot episode. Cory, whose chemistry with his on-screen and real-life girlfriend, Lea Michele (Rachel Berry, the "insufferable" but undeniably talented character), was the anchor of the show, tragically passed away in 2013 from an overdose at the peak of his success. His death severed the very spirit of the series.
• Mark Salling (Puck): The actor with the tougher features who played the group's resident bad boy. His fate was the darkest of all: after being prosecuted by judicial authorities for possession of child pornography—a horrific matter that shook the industry—he committed suicide by hanging in 2018 before receiving his sentence.
• Naya Rivera (Santana Lopez): The charismatic actress of Latina descent who gave life to a lesbian cheerleader whose storylines with Brittany (Heather Morris) broke LGBT boundaries. Naya tragically drowned in a lake in 2020 after heroically managing to save her young son's life.

Forced Inclusion and Vocal Pyrotechnics

The show relied on the genuine talent of some of its members, mixed with the nascent audio-correction technology of the era for those who couldn't quite hit the notes. It is impossible to forget the dazzling voice of Amber Riley (Mercedes Jones), the powerhouse African-American singer whose vocal range made her own castmates fan their faces in adoration.

However, the producers' insistence on selling an idealized world often shattered verisimilitude. The romance between Kurt Hummel (Chris Colfer)—the openly gay and distinctly effeminate youth—and Blaine Anderson (Darren Criss), the heartthrob from the rival elite academy, frequently felt devoid of real chemistry, sustained only by the methodical drive of the script and perfectly coordinated musical numbers.

The series pushed the diversity machine to cartoonish extremes: from Artie (Kevin McHale), the boy in the wheelchair (whose actor in real life had no disability, a choice that would be fiercely criticized today), to the late introduction of Unique Adams (Alex Newell), a trans character of extraordinary vocal talent who was often used merely as a shock-value resource.

Faced with this display of political correctness, the brilliant villain of the story, coach Sue Sylvester (Jane Lynch), became the best character on the show. An Emmy winner, she was the only one who brought things down to earth, shattering the choir's hypocrisy with uncomfortable truths that no one else dared to utter out loud.

Conclusion: The Value of Memory

In the end, Glee feels like a monument to the artificiality of the early 2010s. Behind the scenes and colorful backdrops, murky castings and internal rivalries (now confirmed by the cast themselves regarding Lea Michele's tyrannical behavior on set) proved that happy environments only existed while the music was playing. A nostalgic and disillusioned look at a production that, for better or worse, marked a milestone in network television before the absolute dominance of streaming, reminding us that the price of young talent, sometimes, is simply too high.

Do you also remember Cory's shower scene? Do you think the series aged well, or did the shadow of its tragedies ultimately darken its songs? Let's discuss in the comments below.

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