Self-centered news anchor Tulio Triviño and his reporter best friend Juan Carlos Bodoque, who has a gambling problem, have amused audiences for 22 years. Neither has aged a day. That’s because they are hand puppets — a monkey in a suit and a red rabbit in a striped shirt, respectively — at the forefront of the beloved Chilean TV show “31 Minutos.”
First conceived as a children’s program for Chile’s public television, “31 Minutos” debuted in March 2003, and now spans four seasons. A parody of a traditional newscast, the irreverent concept features dozens of peculiar puppets who populate the fictional town of Titirilquén. Their sharply absurdist misadventures and reportages are accompanied by pun-heavy, humorous original songs.
“The Muppets and ‘Sesame Street’ have been great inspirations for us,” says co-creator Pedro Peirano speaking in Spanish from Santiago, Chile, during a recent Zoom interview. “But we mixed that with a more Latin American idiosyncrasy, so it’s familiar but very different.”
Peirano voices and puppeteers Tulio, while Álvaro Díaz, the show’s other co-creator, gives life to Bodoque (who started out as a green toad before taking on his rabbit form). Among their fabric-made pals are Patana, Tulio’s niece who is a duck, field reporter Mario Hugo, a Chihuahua in a suit, and Juanín, a fuzzy white creature with no visible eyes, the newscast’s producer.
“What we set out to do, I don’t know if consciously, was to create characters who are not role models of anything,” says Peirano. “They have their flaws and their virtues; in fact, they have more flaws, especially Tulio, who is a villain, but he’s also the face of the show.”
Over the years, as the show’s popularity grew across Latin America, “31 Minutos” has transcended the small screen and spilled into other formats. Through Aplaplac, their production company, Díaz and Peirano have created “31 Minutos” live shows that tour the region, a theatrically released feature film, and even an ambitious museum exhibit.
This fall, “31 Minutos” sets its sights on the global market with the release of “Calurosa Navidad” (One Hot Christmas), their first special for Prime Video, streaming on Friday. The Spanish-language film comes on the heels of another big moment for the puppet troupe, when they performed some of their hits on NPR’s “Tiny Desk” last month.
Co-creators Álvaro Díaz, left, and Pedro Peirano on the set of “31 Minutos: Calurosa Navidad.” (Sebastian Utreras)
Although “31 Minutos” emerged as kids’ programming, Díaz and Peirano sidestepped expectations for message-driven storylines.
“In Latin America we tend to confuse children’s television with educational television, as if everything has to be an extension of school,” says Díaz. “We wanted to quickly transform it from that into more of a family show.”
The duo met while studying journalism at the Universidad de Chile in the late 1980s, as the country transitioned from a dictatorship to a democracy. It was their compatible humor, a shared interest in film, and a desire to explore a variety of mediums that brought them together.
“We had a lot of free time to develop our interests,” says Díaz. “And you connect through those interests, even more so that’s based on your personality or your origins.”
Before “31 Minutos,” Díaz and Peirano already had experience working in written media and television, so their impulse was to parody the news world they were familiar with.
When first developing the show, which they produced after winning public funding, the puppets appeared somewhat organically, Díaz says, because neither he nor Peirano wanted to be on camera. And since the project was originally geared toward children, it seemed appropriate.
A scene from Prime Video’s “31 Minutos: Calurosa Navidad.” “We believed that by putting puppets in front of the camera — initially very simple puppets — children would immediately identify with them,” says co-creator Álvaro Díaz.
(Amazon MGM Studios)
“We believed that by putting puppets in front of the camera — initially very simple puppets — children would immediately identify with them, and we wouldn’t be forced to emphasize the children’s tone so much,” recalls Díaz. “On the contrary, the puppets were a vehicle that allowed us to tell stories that interested us.”
And while it was Díaz who first suggested puppets, Peirano, who is also a comic book author, was a lifelong fan of Jim Henson and the worlds he created, including more adult fare like “The Dark Crystal.” The first puppets they used were those that Peirano had made as a child. As self-taught puppeteers, Díaz and Peirano honed their craft along the way.
“It’s much cheaper and faster to make puppets and create this fantastical world than to produce animation,” says Peirano. “Puppets have an immediacy that also makes them fun to perform with and to improvise with.”
As is often the case with children’s shows, they needed to incorporate music. Peirano brought along his friend Pablo Ilabaca, the guitarist and composer of Chilean rock band Chancho en Piedra, who tangentially had created tracks that could work for the show.
“He showed us that music, and we immediately felt that the sound of the ’31 Minutos’ was there,” says Díaz. “There was a lo-fi quality about it. It had something candid that didn’t necessarily have an infantile tone but had a lightness. And we could add lyrics to that music.”
The editorial line for the songs was to validate childhood experiences without trying to impart any life lessons, acknowledging those feelings through comedy.
“There is a song called ‘Diente Blanco’ [White Tooth], for example, which is not about the importance of brushing or taking care of your teeth but, rather, about a child saying goodbye to a tooth he was very fond of,” explains Díaz.
As a father of three (who he hopes will eventually take on the show’s mantle), Díaz operates from a conviction that young audiences deserve quality content that’s not patronizing nor simplistic.
“The entertainment options for children in Latin America, and generally everywhere, are very poor,” says Díaz. “It’s mostly about extracting money from parents with disappointing offerings. As kind of a governing principle for ’31 Minutos,’ we want these options to improve.”
“31 Minutos” rapidly became entrenched in Chilean popular culture. Peirano remembers the exact moment when he realized its cross-generational influence.
“I heard someone whistling the show’s theme song, and it wasn’t a child — it was an adult sweeping the street,” he says. “That was the first time I said, ‘How strange, someone is actually watching it!’ ”
Pedro Peirano remembers the moment he realized “31 Minutos” was becoming entrenched in Chilean pop culture. “I heard someone whistling the show’s theme song, and it wasn’t a child — it was an adult sweeping the street,” he says.
(Sebastian Utreras)
For Díaz, it was when he heard the album with the first batch of songs, released about four months after the show’s debut, playing in multiple record stores around Santiago. Not long after that, they saw the first bootleg merchandise: a toy version of Mico, el Micófono, a character that is just a microphone with googly eyes that street vendors could easily replicate.
Internationally, Mexico became a key market for “31 Minutos.” The creators first realized that country’s adoration for the show when an email address where viewers could write to Tulio was flooded with more messages from Mexico than Chile.
A tribute album, “Yo Nunca Vi Television” (I Never Watched Television), where Mexican and Chilean bands reinterpreted songs from “31 Minutos,” was released in 2009. The show’s museum exhibit, “Museo 31,” visited two Mexican cities (Mexico City and Monterrey) between 2024 and 2025 after its time in Santiago at Centro Cultural La Moneda.
Díaz believes that “31 Minutos” benefited from evolving in front of a young audience who accepted the show’s peculiarities at face value. The industry these days, he thinks, demands every narrative choice be justified with substantial meaning.
“You now have to write with an explicit intention and give everything coherence, as if life is a series of very coherent interconnections,” Díaz says. “It’s impossible to make something like ‘31 Minutos’ today.”
That’s especially true, in their eyes, of the U.S. entertainment industry where one must “understand fun down to its smallest detail” even before anything has been produced.
“Much of the fun of making ’31 Minutos’ has to do with spontaneity,” says Díaz.
Nevertheless, their “Tiny Desk” concert and the Christmas special have brought them to their closest proximity yet to American audiences.
To prepare for their “Tiny Desk” performance, which features some of the show’s most emblematic puppets, the “31 Minutos” team re-created the set in Santiago — a famously tight space where bands are sandwiched between a desk and overflowing bookshelves. “We had to reduce the idea of ‘31 minutes’ to 20 minutes in a small space, without lighting, without special effects,” explains Díaz.
Tapping into current events, the running joke of their “Tiny Desk” appearance is that their work visas will expire immediately after performing.
“We didn’t intend to make a political statement, but since we were in the United States, what’s the joke in the air? That they are going to kick us — as Latin Americans, the joke is always that the U.S. wants us out,” says Peirano. “In the end, it still ends up being a commentary, and we included this crocodile puppet [as an immigration agent] because that’s the satirical nature of ‘31 Minutos.’ ”
Meanwhile, making “Calurosa Navidad” for Prime Video fulfilled their goal of entering the streaming realm. Amazon was interested in genre films, and they opted for a Christmas one.
Fans of “31 Minutos” will recognize that the story, in which Bodoque has to search for Santa and bring him to heat-stricken Titirilquén; it’s the expansion of a story from an earlier special Christmas episode that later evolved into a Christmas live show. The cheeky charm remains intact, but now it’s going to be accessible to a global audience.
Currently, Peirano splits his time between Santiago and Los Angeles. In the U.S., away from the media empire that “31 Minutos” has built in Latin America, he works as a screenwriter. His credits include the HBO series “Perry Mason.” He’s working on a project for horror outfit Blumhouse with collaborator Mauricio Katz. The two recently signed an exclusive overall deal with Sony Pictures Television.
But don’t expect Tulio or Bodoque to speak English anytime soon or for their adventures to be crafted outside of their South American homeland. Díaz has no desire to leave Chile.
“I live five kilometers from the hospital where I was born. And that’s the farthest I can be,” he says. “Chile is the reality that I understand, and, above all, that nourishes us. I like to travel and go on tour, but I hope things always happen here, with the people we know here.”
Díaz cites director Peter Jackson’s ethos to establishing WETA FX, a world-renowned digital effects company, in his home country of New Zealand instead of moving abroad, as a mindset that resembles their own — in admittedly a smaller scale.
“What we advocate for in ‘31 Minutos’ is artistic excellence from Chile,” Díaz adds. “From Chile to Latin America first, and hopefully from Chile to the world.”
This story originally appeared on LA Times
