Diaco in the Despicable Me style is not as likeable as the Minions, but he is giving it a go.

The account is, of course, fragmentary; Pierluigi Diaco’s shouts and rage directed at the authors and the entire editorial team of “BellaMa’” reached the general public, with the inevitable slight distortion resulting from their circulation on social media or specialist websites. The excess of verbal violence is striking. Anyone capable of distinguishing between a desire to appear domineering and a genuine capacity for intimidation will find plenty of evidence to suggest that Diaco perhaps merely wanted to project a tough-guy image, and that his stifled anger surfaces alongside his fear, whilst his uncertainty is accompanied by a pretence of resolve.

Then, amidst shouts, insults and threats, a tell-tale phrase emerges – something that appears to be out of context. Still speaking in a strained voice and with a threatening tone – entirely incongruous with a wise and good-natured statement of this kind – Diaco blurts out: ‘You must respect the elderly’. He introduces, in the tone of a boss delivering a reprimand, a moral exhortation that comes as a surprise, drawing, among other things, on one of the few areas not protected by the waves of Italian-style wokism. The elderly and old age can be attacked with impunity, even without a touch of humour.

Amidst the general outrage, it is worth noting this display of humanity, even as it is delivered angrily by Diaco. While observers may question how his staff might have shown disrespect toward the elderly, Diaco’s chivalrous impulse and the hope (contra spem) that he might yet come to his senses as events unfold, offer a moment of potentially redeeming tenderness. Diaco aims to appear villainous, yet he interprets this inclination in the same way as the endearing Minions – those all-too-human characters in search of a great, utterly villainous boss to serve, yet always betrayed by a carelessness laced with a passion for gratuitous antics and fun for its own sake. Diaco in his Despicable Me version is not as likeable as the Minions, but he gives it a go; he tries that path to see where it might lead, loses his way in the process, yet retains a spark of human confusion that a defender might well appeal to.

Then there is the failed imitation, including that of the typical ‘Minions’-style territory which has been the basis for comedy in thousands of classic gags. Diaco seems to be striving for a sort of ‘Ranuccism’, forgetting that the former presenter of ‘Report’ used to say the most terrible things, but never in a debate, never to people’s faces. Alternatively, Diaco may have sought to present himself as an interviewer with a straight back—an abstract model that, when brought down to earth and faced with a serene and self-assured former priest, inevitably becomes ridiculous, because the premise itself is ridiculous. Had it not been for the painful yet redemptive absurdity, Diaco might have taken comfort in the idea of being a tough and successful interviewer.

Fortunately, that is not how it turned out. Diaco had to struggle through the ordeal of apologising; he had to acknowledge what he’d said and make amends; he had a chance to reconsider certain editorial outbursts and that threatening rubbish. It is better this way, and it is better to carry forward – now cleansed of it all – that affectionate spark for the elderly, that grain of goodness that saves him.