Politics and puppets: The enduring appeal of ‘31 Minutos’
Characters from the Chilean puppet TV show "31 Minutos" perform a free concert celebrating Children's Day in Mexico City's Zócalo, April 30, 2026.
Marco Ugarte/AP
Mexico City
As the sun set in Mexico City on a recent evening, a mix of mostly adults flowed into the capital’s main Zócalo – many wearing distinctive red bunny ears. They turned out to catch the most famous news program in Latin America,
“31 Minutos.” It happens to be a Chilean puppet show, dreamed up for children at the fall of the Pinochet dictatorship. But, it pulses so strongly with political satire and creativity that it has generated megafans of all ages, including the hundreds of thousands that turned out for the free show last month. And though the program has gained popularity throughout the Americas, Mexico lays claim to being home to some of its most devoted fans.
“Even though it’s Chilean, it connects with Mexico,” says Adriana Solis, a filmmaker and professor who specializes in children’s media. She came out for the free show in Mexico City on April 30, which drew a crowd of more than 230,000 spectators. The ties to Mexico are in “the irony, the absurdity, and the exaggerated personalities” of the show’s characters, she says.
Why We Wrote This
The Chilean children’s show has gained an international following, but Mexico is home to some of the most ardent fans of its satirical humor.
The title “31 Minutos” is a parody of the former Chilean news program “60 Minutos,” a key propaganda tool in the 1970s and ’80s during Augusto Pinochet’s rule. Once the country began the transition to democracy in the 1990s, two journalists, Álvaro Díaz González and Pedro Peirano, set out to design a children’s show that they themselves would want to watch – steeped in humor and
political criticism, and where children wouldn’t be infantilized. They competed for government funding, and launched “31 Minutos” in 2003. The edgy earworm soundtrack was crafted by musicians from the Chilean rock group Chancho en Piedra. Two years later, Mexican public television began broadcasting it, becoming one of the first national outlets outside Chile to air the show.
An ode to creativity
The April performance in Mexico City kicked off with Juanín Juan Harry, a workaholic puppet whose voluminous white fur covers his eyes beneath his emblematic orange headset, and Tulio Triviño, a vain, mercurial, suit-clad newscaster in the form of a sock monkey. Juanín asked Tulio whether he knew what he was doing in Mexico, to which the monkey responded, “I have absolutely no idea.” Juanín turned to the cheering crowd and led them in singing “La Desgracia Ajena,” or “Other People’s Misfortune,” rattling off a list of current events and criticizing how the news makes a spectacle of everyday crises.
Celia Martínez, who works for the education ministry, first started watching “31 Minutos” when her son was small. She quickly realized she enjoyed the program even more than he did. “I fell in love with ‘Where Does the Poop Go,’” she says of the catchy explainer about the Chilean sewage system. The segment features Juan Carlos Bodoque, a red rabbit and “star journalist” antihero who takes viewers on a very detailed journey about water treatment – signing off from his home bathroom.
The same sketch resonated with middle school Spanish teacher Mario Aguilar, who says the show “instills critical thinking in [children] instead of a moral pedagogy.” Bodoque, the rabbit, is his favorite character because “he is cynical and at the same time silly and critical of society.” Mr. Aguilar says even his teenage students think the puppet show is cool, something he attributes to the dynamic format and how it touches on real-life themes other programs might avoid.
Nearby, actress Mónica del Carmen is dressed in “31 Minutos” garb – from her hoodie sweatshirt down to her socks – describing how she fell in love with the show as a theater student in the early 2000s. One of her favorite songs is “I Never Watched Television,” an ode to creativity, discovery, and living without technology. “One day, the television exploded. And I discovered a very complex world of imagination out there,” the puppet chorus sings in that number.
She also appreciates the political commentary, particularly at this moment when tensions between Mexico and the United States are so high. Last October, when “31 Minutos” played a Tiny Desk concert for NPR, the puppets joked that their work visas were going to expire in 31 minutes.
“Political consciousness is what our countries’ present and future depend on,” Ms. del Carmen says. “Especially as Latin Americans.” Kids enjoy the show, too. Fourth grader Arami Fequiere’s mother turned her on to “31 Minutos” last year. She and Bodoque have a shared love for the environment, she says of the rabbit.
“What can we do about this cruel world?”
Creativity, edutainment, and puppets? It might sound “Sesame Street” adjacent, but “31 Minutos” goes a step further, says Ms. Solis, the children’s media professor. She believes the Latin American version of the PBS classic is removed from Mexico’s realities, while the Chilean program reflects children’s lived experiences. For example, in “31 Minutos,” Bodoque once visited a beach that was contaminated by an oil spill – an ongoing reality in Mexico.
Ms. Solis became a fan of “31 Minutos” as an adult. Growing up in Mexico in the 1970s and ’80s, she was in “an environment where children’s voices were very repressed, we were told ‘stay quiet,’ or ‘you can’t have an opinion, you’re a child,’” she recalls. “‘31 Minutos’ represents the kind of show many of us wish we had growing up – one that is more anarchic, irreverent, musical, and genuinely respectful of children’s voices.”
Behind her, in the vast Zócalo plaza, Cucho Lambretta, an adorable brown bear comes onstage. “What can we do about this cruel world?” another puppet asks him. “í!” or “Laugh!,” he responds, breaking into song with an upbeat circus-like tempo that belies its hard-knocks lyrics.
It’s an approach many in Mexico – and Latin America – are familiar with. For decades, political mistrust has been high. And more recent news here, from the U.S. indictment of a sitting Mexican state governor for drug trafficking to the education ministry announcing (then walking back) the last-minute cancellation of an entire month of school because of the World Cup, hammers home this “you either have to laugh or else you’ll cry” approach to life. “Laugh, laugh, laugh” the little bear sings, “because life will always break you. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. And tomorrow will still be cloudy.”
Singing and laughing along, the crowd radiates with joy.