Together they formed a legendary duo that many still remember as some of the boldest, most renegade creators of their era. In the late 70s and 80s, their work defined underground comics, and as a pair they became the parents of one of the period’s most infamous characters. Makoki, always pictured in a robe and helmet with electroshock wires running across his head, stood for a rough, unapologetic Barcelona—a city caught between transition, crime, drugs, sex, and rock and roll. Both men said farewell to a turbulent 2022, with Miguel Gallardo passing away in February at 66 and his longtime friend and collaborator, Juanito Mediavilla, dying a few days ago at 72 in his home town of Burgos. Mediavilla was celebrated for his sharp, witty dialogue and for the Makoki cartoons that carried phrases that echoed the street: “Ne pacha chonis!”, “Caguendios!” and “Oyesstio, fuck you.”
Juan Lopez Mediavilla’s photograph from Burgos, 1950, is familiar to many in the comic world. Mediavilla also created the magazine during its golden period, Viper, featuring characters like El Ninito and Juan Jaravaca. Much of his work from 1986 to 1991 was collected in a La Cúpula volume, which he revised despite significant vision problems. His drawings captured pre-Olympic Barcelona with an unflinching eye.
“A friend is leaving, good people who lived in a very dangerous time,” said Dome, Emili Bernardez. “Gallardo’s scripts for Makoki remain unforgettable.” Mediavilla himself shared a note about a possible republication of his partner’s series, explaining that the request came from the other artist. He reviewed the material closely, even adding pages that had not appeared in the editorial version. His work painted a portrait of the lumpen Barcelona and of a creator who often spoke in a self-referential way about his own characters, a trait that echoed Miguel Gallardo’s influence.
Throughout his life, Mediavilla faced practical hardships as well. He battled a difficult financial arrangement with a local bank that threatened eviction from his Burgos home, where he lived with his wife Isabel. After decades in Barcelona, the couple had returned to their roots. The pressure to leave intensified as the institution pressed for missed payments, and Mediavilla spoke candidly about the stress and despair it caused during conversations with newspapers at the time.
Makoki’s debut appeared in Disco Exprés on June 24, 1977, under the title Revuelta en el Frenopático. Gallardo drew inspiration from a story by Felipe Borrayo that had appeared in the fanzine Claraboya. The era was marked by a sense of opened doors following Franco’s death two years earlier, which let writers and artists explore a new freedom. The Makoki canon includes a cast like Emo, Morgan, Cuco, and El Niñato, reflecting the lives of many young people who shared intense friendships, music, romance, and a palpable hunger for autonomy.
Makoki’s pages introduced characters such as Commissioner Loperena, Inspector Pectol, and Doctor Otto. For a time, Gallardo and Mediavilla drew inspiration from the creative circle around El Víbora, sharing a streetwise sensibility that rang true to readers. Mediavilla’s collaborations with Gallardo produced bold lines and punchy phrases—humor and grit that defined their joint voice. Phrases like “Mecaguentú!” and “Bad blood is getting on my armpits” captured street chatter with startling honesty. The pair also contributed to other publications such as Star, Hara Kiri, Rambla, Caníbal, and Butifarra, broadening their influence across the alternative comic scene.
Mediavilla himself summed up the spirit of their work in 2012: “We did what we loved, which was drawing.” The legacy of their collaborations lives in the way Makoki and related characters reflected a specific, intense moment in Spanish comics—rough-edged, unfiltered, and deeply tied to the people and places that shaped them. The stories and the voices of Gallardo and Mediavilla continue to be recalled by fans and fellow artists who remember a Barcelona that never shied away from hard truths and loud laughter. Attribution: reflections from colleagues and archival interviews