Rumba Tres, de ida y vuelta

A panegyric to the most jubilant Catalan rumba band: Rumba Tres. The trio's zest for life was like a break in the storm clouds of Francoism. And they weren't born with silver spoons in their mouths, either. Theirs is a story of stardom and gas station tapes, of brilliant songs and "diabolical" dancers (as one of their wives attests, as she cracks up laughing), of family warmth, poverty and rhythm. It's a story of overcoming: sadness, the abuse to which they were subjected in the school-prison, being born in the boondocks. And it's a story of damned redemption. Of how the Capdevila brothers and their buddy José Sardaña, Barcelonian and mullet-tastic, won all the festivals, made a grey country shimmy, were pursued by tireless groupies and travelled to every corner of the peninsula to one gala or another (risking their lives). It's a story of matrimonial love, despite the tours and wild affairs. A story of family and cohesion and hits. There are eight million stories here.