The Italian press doesn't know how to talk about Sanremo

Last night, Gaia, a contestant at Sanremo 2025, posted an Instagram story featuring the song Maggio Se Ne Va by Pino Daniele. While for many, the Neapolitan singer-songwriter’s track is nothing short of a masterpiece, those who followed the latest episode of Domenica In know that the artist's post is, in fact, a dig. Yesterday afternoon, all the contestants of the 75th edition of the Festival were guests of Mara Venier at the Ariston Theatre, where they engaged with journalists and industry commentators about the past week. Among them was Davide Maggio, a television critic known primarily for an unpleasant comment about Emma Marrone’s physique in a previous edition of the Festival (apparently, she wasn’t supposed to wear fishnet stockings). He did what the Italian press does best: stir up drama over nothing. Among the most awkward moments of the episode featuring Maggio was when he pointed out to Gaia that she ranked last in the televote standings (a moment that sparked public outrage and prompted Venier to defend the singer) and when he insinuated that Elodie, on the last night of the Festival, was upset because someone backstage had ripped her dress. «Why am I even arguing with Davide Maggio?» roared the singer of Dimenticarsi alle 7, sending the theatre audience and social media into a frenzy. Elodie then emphasised that female artists, as always, are considered only for gossip and not for their artistic value. In short, nothing new on the Sanremo front: once again, the press is insensitive, mean-spirited, and focused only on the least interesting aspects of the Festival. While this week’s events offered plenty of potential topics, they chose once again to push a low-level narrative that we, unfortunately, have come to expect. But let’s go back to the nights of the event and clarify a few things.

To realize that the Italian press suffers from toxicity, you don’t have to look far. While all the Festival’s artists embraced a healthy sense of competition—even celebrating it this year with duets among contestants during the cover night—social media and gossip magazines were busy hunting for scoops. First came the deliberately inappropriate questions to singers and co-hosts at press conferences («Will you send a kiss to Giorgia Meloni?» possibly the most embarrassing line of the entire edition), then the criticism of Tony Effe for the usual reasons that Italian journalists love to discuss: his tattoos, profanity in his songs, and his attempt to clean up his image for the Festival, reinforced by the famous phrase «So maybe there’s some good in you after all»—further proof that so-called music experts don’t even understand Italian rap. Even in the famous necklace incident, newspapers and media focused on Tony Effe’s alleged temper instead of the more intriguing aspects of the matter, such as the relationship between brands and Sanremo, logos and recognition, and the influence of sponsors on the show itself. Is provoking celebrities the sole purpose of journalists? The funniest part is that, despite all the sarcastic remarks and articles against the Festival’s bad boy, in the cases of both Gaia and Elodie, as well as the «kiss to Giorgia Meloni» question posed to Geppi Cucciari and the Tony Effe necklace drama, the public and social media sided with the victims.

If the most talked-about controversies of the Sanremo week aren’t enough to confirm the decadence, toxicity, and outdated nature of the Italian press, then perhaps we should take a look at what happens in the press room at the Festival. Some of the comments made by journalists (and others) during the show make it clear how much damage the media is doing not only to music but to Italian culture as a whole. Let’s start with «this is the pornography of music», said during Rose Villain’s performance in the final, or even «Who is this? They all look the same» referring to Clara. It felt as though those present had stumbled upon Sanremo by accident and had no idea what they were watching, making remarks like «I thought it was Bresh, but it’s Tedua» and «Excuse me, when is Il Volo singing? Oh, they’re not?»—comments that, rather than being funny, were just frustrating. We’ll spare you the most sexist and misogynistic arguments of the night (whether fueled by gin and tonics or just the usual crude banter, there were many), but one of the most shocking revelations on Saturday night was that the majority of the press room had little to no knowledge (nor any apparent interest in learning) about the competing artists. Unsurprisingly, the most common references were stale comparisons like «She’s very Vasco Rossi in female form» for Noemi, «She’s giving Anne Hathaway in Catwoman» for Elodie (because, of course, there were serious fashion editors in the room), and «a Nina Zilli» for Joan Thiele. The cherry on top (this one’s worth sharing for laughs) was the complete butchering of contemporary slang: «Alessia Marcuzzi is cringing.»

It’s normal that, at Sanremo, the media chases after scoops at all costs, just as it’s normal for artists to push back against the press—it’s part of the game. However, the glaring issue this week was that journalists’ focus was misplaced. There were countless themes worth exploring, from the mental health of the contestants (recalling the decision of Angelina Mango, the latest winner, to take a break from the industry, or Olly’s hesitation about participating in the next Eurovision Song Contest due to stress) to the representation of women at the Festival, not to mention the ongoing discussions about the success of Marta Donà’s management (which has been a trending topic on social media for days). Sure, it’s true that the most popular TV shows in Italy are the trashy ones that generate memes and endless drama, but the audience isn’t as stupid as it seems, and journalists should take note. Whether they are TV critics or music experts, their job is to inform, not to fabricate controversy over an extra curse word we already knew existed. It’s understandable that a conservative Festival (remembering the incredible pink stage design created exclusively for the female co-hosts’ entrances or Carlo Conti’s use of the words «father» and «mother» as the highest forms of recognition) invited only seasoned journalists, but perhaps a few more young voices—and not just in terms of age—wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.