Spanish figure skater Tomàs-Llorenç Guarino Sabaté faces uncertainty about whether he can perform a Minions-inspired free skate at the Winter Olympics because parts of his competition music remain uncleared for Olympic use. Sabaté’s program, performed throughout the 2025–2026 season, uses a medley that originally included the Minions’ cover of Universal Pictures’ fanfare and a Pharrell song from Despicable Me 3, among other covers and remixes sung by Minions.

Music-rights holders initially denied clearance for some tracks, and the International Skating Union’s song-approval process left Sabaté waiting for definitive answers only days before travel to Milan. Partial approvals were granted for some songs, while others still await licensing decisions, leaving the athlete concerned and preparing an alternate, shorter routine set to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack.

Legal experts say the case is complex because each composition and sound recording in Sabaté’s medley can require separate licenses, the venue must obtain playback rights, and preclearance tools used by skaters do not cover every territory worldwide. The controversy reflects broader copyright uncertainty in figure skating following a 2022 lawsuit over an unlicensed performance, which has led some skaters to change programs before the Olympics to avoid potential legal exposure.

The International Skating Union stated that it is working with rights-clearance stakeholders to enable performances with approved music, and licensing platforms reported assisting in securing approvals for some previously denied tracks. Final clearance for the remaining songs had not been confirmed.

Original article (minions) (composition) (entitlement)

Overall assessment The article describes a real-world dispute over music clearances for a figure skater’s Olympic program and reports on the status of approvals, legal complexity, and the skater’s contingency plan. As journalism it informs about an ongoing situation, but it offers very little a typical reader can use directly. Below I break down usefulness against the specific criteria you asked for.

Actionable information The article contains almost no practical steps that an ordinary reader could act on. It reports that some tracks were denied, that partial approvals arrived late, that the skater prepared an alternate routine, and that the ISU and some licensing platforms were involved. None of those items gives a reader concrete instructions such as how to clear music rights, where to get licenses, how to check a venue’s playback permissions, or how to appeal a denial. The mention of “preclearance tools” and licensing platforms suggests resources exist, but the article does not name them or explain how to use them. For someone who needs to clear music, change a program legally, or verify venue rights, the article offers no clear, usable steps. It therefore fails as a how-to resource.

Educational depth The article provides more than a surface description of a single incident: it identifies the legal complexity that each composition and sound recording can require separate licenses, that venue playback rights matter, and that preclearance tools don’t cover every territory. That is helpful context and explains why clearance can be slow and uncertain. However, the piece stops short of deeper explanation. It does not explain what specific licenses are involved (for example, mechanical, synchronization, master, or public performance rights), how licensing timelines normally work, the typical fee structures, or the processes rights holders use to evaluate requests. It also doesn’t explain why territorial restrictions exist or how a preclearance tool technically operates. In short, the article gives a correct outline of the legal causes but not the mechanics a reader would need to understand the system fully.

Personal relevance For most readers the story is of limited personal relevance. It directly affects figure skaters, choreographers, coaches, event organizers, and rights holders who must clear music. For fans it may matter for knowing whether the athlete will skate to the Minions medley. For anyone else the impact is minor: it does not affect safety, general finances, or health. The article is relevant to a small professional community and to followers of the sport, not to the general public’s daily decisions.

Public service function The article does a reasonable job of highlighting a broader problem area—uncertainty about music licensing in competitive skating following earlier lawsuits—which could alert skaters and organizers to a real risk. But it does not provide practical warnings, checklists, or emergency guidance that would help people act responsibly to avoid infringement or last-minute program changes. It reports the issue but stops short of serving as a public-service guide.

Practical advice quality The article essentially contains no step-by-step guidance. It reports that the skater prepared an alternate Saturday Night Fever routine, which is an example of a contingency plan but not a practical template. It cites “legal experts” explaining complexity, but does not give readers realistic, followable actions (such as types of licenses to request, typical lead times, or who to contact). Any reader who needs to address music clearance would still lack the basic procedural checklist after reading this piece.

Long-term impact The article does point to an ongoing trend: increased caution around music use in figure skating since a 2022 lawsuit, and that some skaters are changing programs to reduce legal exposure. That is useful as a signal that the problem is structural and likely to persist. But it does not offer planning guidance that would help affected people adapt long term, for example by recommending standard lead times for clearance, contract language, or default-to-safe-music strategies.

Emotional and psychological impact The article may create anxiety for skaters and fans by emphasizing last-minute denials and uncertainty. It also reassures somewhat by reporting that the ISU is working with stakeholders and that some tracks received approvals. However, without actionable guidance about what to do if you are a skater or coach facing this problem, the piece leans toward producing worry rather than calm or constructive next steps.

Clickbait or sensationalism The article does not appear to use exaggerated language; it reports a high-profile, slightly unusual situation (Minions medley at the Olympics) which naturally attracts attention. It does not seem to overpromise outcomes or rely on sensational claims beyond the basic news hook.

Missed opportunities to teach or guide The article missed several clear chances to be more useful. It could have listed the common licenses involved in public performance at an event, suggested reasonable lead times for clearance, explained how venue licenses interact with performer licenses, described what preclearance tools are and their limits, or provided practical contingency options skaters commonly use. It could also have pointed readers to real resources such as national performing-rights organizations, typical licensing platforms, or basic contract provisions to request. None of those were offered.

Practical, realistic guidance the article failed to provide If you are a skater, coach, choreographer, or event organizer who needs to manage music clearance, start by identifying every distinct element in your program that could be copyrighted: the underlying composition (songwriting), the specific sound recording (the performance you intend to play), and any derivative or sampled material. Treat each element as a separate permission request. Contact your national performing-rights organization to confirm whether the event venue already has a public-performance license that covers playing commercial recordings; if the venue has that license it may satisfy only part of what you need. For the sound recordings and versions you intend to use, contact the record label or use well-known licensing platforms; for the composition rights contact the publisher or a performing-rights group. Begin these requests as early as possible—months rather than days—because rights-holders may need time to review, consult third parties, or negotiate fees. Prepare a fallback music plan before final rehearsals: select alternative tracks that are easier to clear (public-domain pieces, original compositions you commission, or tracks from libraries that offer event-friendly blanket licenses) and rehearse a shorter program using that music so you can switch without losing technical readiness. Keep written records of all communications and written approvals; verbal assurances are weak if a dispute arises. Finally, if you rely on a “preclearance” tool, verify explicitly what territories and event types it covers and ask for written confirmation that the planned use at your specific event is supported.

"faces uncertainty about whether he can perform a Minions-inspired free skate at the Winter Olympics because parts of his competition music remain uncleared for Olympic use." This language frames the situation as a problem mainly for the skater. It helps the athlete’s side by centering his worry and hides other stakeholders’ perspectives (rights holders, organizers). The wording focuses empathy on Sabaté and makes the licensing issue feel like a personal obstacle rather than a broader legal matter.

"Music-rights holders initially denied clearance for some tracks, and the International Skating Union’s song-approval process left Sabaté waiting for definitive answers only days before travel to Milan." Saying rights holders "initially denied" and the ISU "left Sabaté waiting" uses active phrasing that assigns blame to institutions. It helps readers blame rights holders and the ISU for delay, emphasizing their action and the athlete’s passive waiting.

"Partial approvals were granted for some songs, while others still await licensing decisions, leaving the athlete concerned and preparing an alternate, shorter routine set to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack." Describing the alternate routine as "shorter" and noting the athlete is "concerned" softens the institutions’ role and frames the outcome as a compromise on the skater’s artistic choices. It nudges sympathy for loss of creative expression without presenting the rights-side reasoning.

"Legal experts say the case is complex because each composition and sound recording in Sabaté’s medley can require separate licenses, the venue must obtain playback rights, and preclearance tools used by skaters do not cover every territory worldwide." Labeling the situation "complex" and citing "legal experts" can diffuse responsibility and suggest genuine difficulty rather than negligence. It helps portray the licensing system as inherently messy, which may reduce scrutiny of specific decisions.

"The controversy reflects broader copyright uncertainty in figure skating following a 2022 lawsuit over an unlicensed performance, which has led some skaters to change programs before the Olympics to avoid potential legal exposure." Calling it "controversy" and linking to a past lawsuit frames the issue as widespread industry trouble. This helps justify caution by rights holders and organizers, and it normalizes program changes as reasonable, not as obstacles imposed on athletes.

"The International Skating Union stated that it is working with rights-clearance stakeholders to enable performances with approved music, and licensing platforms reported assisting in securing approvals for some previously denied tracks." Using passive construction "stated that it is working" and "reported assisting" hides who specifically is doing the work and gives a comforting, cooperative tone. This helps present institutions as responsive without showing concrete results or accountability.

"Final clearance for the remaining songs had not been confirmed." This neutral-sounding sentence leaves out who is responsible for making the final call and implies ongoing uncertainty. It helps keep blame vague and preserves the idea that resolution is still possible, softening criticism of delays.

The text conveys several distinct emotions that shape the reader’s understanding and response. Foremost is uncertainty, expressed in phrases such as “faces uncertainty,” “remain uncleared,” “waiting for definitive answers,” “days before travel,” and “Final clearance... had not been confirmed.” This uncertainty is strong; it pervades the account and frames the situation as unresolved and precarious. Its purpose is to create concern about whether Sabaté can perform his intended program and to emphasize the time pressure and unpredictability of the licensing process. Closely linked is anxiety or worry, evident in “leaving the athlete concerned” and the description of an alternate routine being prepared. The worry is moderate to strong because it affects preparations for a major event and forces contingency planning. This emotion steers the reader toward sympathy for Sabaté and heightens attention to the practical consequences of the licensing dispute. Frustration is suggested by details about denials, the complexity of separate licenses for compositions and sound recordings, and the mention that preclearance tools “do not cover every territory worldwide.” That frustration is moderate; it is more procedural than furious, highlighting bureaucratic obstacles and gaps in existing systems. Its role is to provoke criticism of the rights-clearance framework and to make the reader question whether processes are fair or adequate. Professional concern and caution appear in the reporting of legal experts and the historical reference to the 2022 lawsuit, which prompted some skaters to change programs “to avoid potential legal exposure.” These emotions are measured and advisory, serving to legitimize apprehension about legal risk and to explain why stakeholders act conservatively. They guide readers to view the licensing issue as both legally serious and influential on athletes’ choices. A note of hope or tentative relief is present in the statements that the International Skating Union “is working with rights-clearance stakeholders” and that licensing platforms “reported assisting in securing approvals.” These cues are mild but important; they counterbalance uncertainty by suggesting collaborative efforts to resolve problems, thereby reducing alarm and building some trust in institutional responses. Neutral, factual concern also appears in the careful enumeration of technical reasons—multiple licenses, venue playback rights, and preclearance limits—which keeps parts of the text informative rather than purely emotive; this tempered tone supports credibility and helps readers see the issue as complex rather than simply scandalous. The choice of words and sentence structure amplifies these emotions: verbs like “denied,” “waiting,” “left...waiting,” and “await licensing decisions” emphasize delay and blockage; adjectives such as “uncertain,” “denied,” and “complex” convey seriousness; and contrasts—between the desired Minions medley and the “alternate, shorter routine” to Saturday Night Fever—highlight stakes and trade-offs. Mentioning a past lawsuit functions as a brief narrative device that personalizes the risk and lends historical weight, making the present situation seem part of an ongoing problem rather than an isolated incident. Repetition of the licensing obstacles and the pending nature of approvals reinforces the main emotional thread of anxiety and underscores procedural failure, steering readers toward concern and skepticism about the sufficiency of existing clearance mechanisms. Overall, the emotional pattern—uncertainty and worry tempered by institutional reassurances and factual explanation—aims to generate sympathy for the athlete, prompt worry about system gaps, and encourage trust that stakeholders are attempting a fix, while persuading readers to see the issue as legally and practically significant rather than merely trivial.