Mucho Mucho Amor shines light on the godfather of positive vibes, Walter Mercado

I have never held any affection for astrology. The concept of my date of birth meaning anything more than an annual opportunity to eat too many ribs is an obtuse thought that I struggle to swallow. It seems, to me, a thing to grab hold of when you feel that you have lost touch with your identity. Frankly, I often feel that it is a lifeline of hope for people too weak to admit that their faults are their own. Astrology excuses changeable character flaws. I understand if it provides you comfort, but it implies a level of complacency and predestination that I will never endorse.

Yet, I found myself quite charmed by Walter Mercado, famed TV-astrologer and subject of the new Netflix documentary Mucho Much Amor:The Legend of Walter Mercado. Directed by Christina Constantini and Kareem Tabsch, the documentary tells the sweet but rosy-eyed story of the Puerto Rican television host.

To say that Walter Mercado was an enigma would be an understatement. From a young age, Walter believed he had spiritual abilities. At one point in the documentary, he claims to have breathed life back into a dying bird in his youth. This seems to have been a formative moment in Walter, and one that led him to believe that his own peculiarities could be embraced for good.

As he grew older, Walter became flamboyant and androgynous, often wearing makeup and opulent clothing (the latter becoming a particular staple of his). Soon enough, Walter’s sense of confident style led him to the world of acting.

His television roles were mostly relegated to telenovelas, and on set he would often discuss the star signs with the cast and crew. This was noticed and, one night, Walter was asked to talk about astrology on camera. That night, Walter went into a “monologue” on astrology, and the next night he had his own fifteen-minute segment.

He had one the next night, too.

Walter stayed on the air for decades, gaining wider exposure and higher production value from his former manager Bill Bakula. This relationship eventually turned sour, leaving Walter in a rather unfortunate position. To say more would spoil the movie, but what matters is that Walter’s attitude is unchanged throughout. This is what defines Walter. Beyond astrology and his undefined sexuality is his unconditional positivity.

Walter never said a negative thing on the air. His suggestion was always one of love and peace, regardless of “sign.” This could come off as insincere and broadly vague in most situations, but Walter makes it personal. The application of a star sign adds a small sense of individualism to what Walter has to say.

While I do not submit to anything related to astrology, it is easy to endorse Walter’s methods. He was telling people to succeed, to live with love, over and over again, every night. His signature signoff was “mucho, mucho amor”–or, “very much love.”

At first, I shrugged this off as a money-making scheme, an attempt at fame from a vain man. While this scheme is likely partly true (and a truth that could have added a missing layer to the narrative), it is also made clear that Walter had his name quite literally taken from him, along with several million dollars. He is by no standard a poor man, but he is not without adversity. Here is a person who never defines his sexuality, yet somehow gained fame within the extremely homophobic Puerto Rican culture (which is examined briefly within the film) of the 70s. Even in liberal cultures, homosexuality was mocked and, in worse cases, despised at the start of Walter’s tenure. How he not only survived, but thrived in such a time period is something of an anomaly in itself, being superceded by only the likes of Freddie Mercury and Liberace.

Walter Mercado acted as a beacon for LGBTQ+ Latinx youth before any of those terms existed. Appreciation is expressed for him repeatedly by gay and queer youth throughout the documentary, including Hamilton writer Lin-Manuel Miranda.

Toward the end of the documentary, Walter attends an exhibit on himself. We see him struggle to perform as he once did. He is forced to realize that the golden years are truly behind him and carries this realization with poise. Suffering from sciatica, he continues to endure such photo shoots wearing his signature 15-pound capes at the age of 86. In an interview he smiles, saying he “will die with [his] boots on.” I surely hope he did.

That said, this documentary could have used more digging. I walked away with a pristine image of Walter, but I cannot help but question its accuracy. While Walter seems like an incredibly private person, I cannot help but feel that negative perceptions were cut around in order to protect the reputation of the now-deceased television personality. There are moments where he is asked direct questions, and he dodges them with ease. Perhaps this is due to his charm, or some level of actual spiritual ability, but it feels as though the filmmakers did not care enough to pry. There are no follow up questions. We simply move on as an audience. Perhaps the filmmakers did not want to scare off their subject. I understand that. However, I struggle to believe someone can be so wholly good.

Then again, perhaps I am just a lowly cynic.

Walter Mercado is not divine. He is not a psychic, or an illusionist, or a greedy televangelist. He is, however, a beacon of strange, fabulous hope–particularly for the queer Latinx population.

While lacking in conflict or tension, what makes this documentary special is Walter. Much like Walter’s television appearances, this documentary is a celebration of life, and it seems to wish nothing but success for all of its viewers.

Subjective Verdict 3/5

Mucho Mucho Amor catches some intimate moments in the life of an enigma. It’s worth a watch just to see what this man was like. I am curious to see if there was something darker in Walter that the internet will uncover, some scrubbed out character flaw that got ignored. Until then, I’ll enjoy this vision of the grandma-haired mystery-man that is Walter Mercado.

Objective Verdict 4/5

While this documentary adds little to the genre, its subject matter feels important and relevant. It is lovingly made, with a pleasant balance between modern interviews and archival footage.

I did not know about Walter before watching, but I’m glad I do now.

It’s hard to pin this one down. It did not thrill me, but it had a saccharine quality that is lacking in Netflix’s documentary catalogue. Walter Mercado is a symbol of hope for those who feel that their very identities are being suppressed. Both Walter’s struggles and successes spin around Walter’s bizarre aesthetic and flamboyant charm. His story suggests that being “different” is not a curse, but a gift to be embraced. This documentary inspires instead of breaking, and I think we can use more of that right now.

A version of this story is archived on CreatorCoffeeShop.com