Na Linha com Mário Kertész

Na Linha com Mário Kertész is an interview show with a strong Bahia center of gravity. It treats conversation as public memory, not just as promotion. The guest may arrive to discuss a book, a security brief, a stage show, or a public institution, but the exchange keeps widening into politics, personal history, local names, and the question of what a place chooses to remember. Ceuci Nunes’s episode starts with Bahia Pharma and her work as an infectologist, then moves into the trauma of COVID, the disbelief from authorities, missed funerals, Manaus graves, denial, and the need to keep that period visible. Marcelo Werner’s interview is more institutional, centered on public security in Bahia, violence, policing, intelligence, facções, and the claim that the state is working with seriousness and reductions. The tone there is firm and civic. Casemiro Neto’s conversation is looser and more affectionate, full of radio and television memory, professional formation, Antônio Carlos, TV Bahia, Libório, and the odd tenderness that can live inside old newsroom rivalries. Nelson Varon Cadena’s visit brings the show into archival pleasure: Bahian press history, nineteenth-century newspapers, caricatures, editors, formats, old titles, and the physical difficulty of reading the “great press.” Then the music episode with Marcelo Prado and Alexandre Leão changes the temperature again. It talks about Gonzaguinha, theater, family singing, romantic repertoire, denser songs, and the risk of performing feeling without sanding it down. The show’s rhythm is oral and sometimes unruly. It admires guests openly. It interrupts. It remembers. It pushes back. It can move from a technical question to a political aside in seconds, then linger over a street name, a dead colleague, a lyric, or a public failure. That makes it especially useful for listeners who want Brazilian public life heard through local institutions and lived experience rather than filtered into clean debate segments. The episodes are warm, but not decorative. They carry grief, civic anger, nostalgia, and flashes of delight.