CQC returns attacking VOX, securing 9% audience share

CQC returns to the schedule attacking VOX in the first minute

What kind of irreverent program opens its first broadcast by firing at those not in Government? The return of Caiga Quien Caiga to mainstream television resolved with a barrage against VOX in the first seconds, and with a controversy that lasted much longer than the show itself. The premiere ended with a 9% share and 1.1 million viewers, according to figures circulating around the broadcast. The underlying question is not whether the joke was funny: it is who is allowed to bite in prime time today.

The first minute: VOX in the crosshairs

The most repeated criticism does not dispute the humor, but the target. A format that prides itself on biting should start with whoever holds the Council of Ministers; targeting the opposition is interpreted, from various fronts, as a cover-up. "In democracies, the press audits power; in autocracies, it attacks the opposition," summarizes one of the most repeated formulations, which compresses the entire framework of disagreement into one sentence.

Another part is concerned with selective silence. It is argued that jokes about Telefónica, Indra, or the leadership of those companies will not pass through the studio, while the focus concentrates on the Executive's adversaries. It is a suspicion, not a proven fact, but it circulates strongly and explains much of the anger.

A format with several resurrections behind it

Caiga Quien Caiga is no novelty: it is a remix with nostalgia built-in. The format has already seen several returns to the schedule —a forum user counts four or five resurrections on national networks— and those who watched it in the 90s remember that it was then attributed with a marked bias toward the left. The novelty, if it exists, lies in the packaging and who presents it, not the script. Some add an economic ingredient: institutional advertising as support for formats rescued more by convenience than by audience.

Why do the presenters and tone generate rejection?

The complaint about the presenters is the most cross-cutting of all: they are described as unbearable, lacking the craft the format demands, and the result is qualified as sensationalist, with jokes that do not even elicit a smile. In this complaint, criticism focuses on the execution rather than the political tonalidad.

Regarding the tone, an older accusation weighs heavily: that under the label of humor, propaganda slips in. This is the reading that holds that the content seeks not laughter but a cover-up, and that the comic packaging only serves to let the message enter without resistance.

9% audience: good data or symptom of agony?

The premiere data admits two opposite readings. For some, 1.1 million viewers are a reasonable base in a media that is bleeding out. For others, that 9% reflects the exact opposite: linear television that is aging, with fewer young viewers willing to sit in front of an appliance at a specific time.

The conversation quickly shifts to the support system. Some acknowledge that in their home, the television serves decorative functions and that they have not turned on cable antenna for years. From there to concluding that the problem is not the program but the entire medium is a step, and many take it in a hurry.

Returning to where one was happy

Amidst political anger, a more melancholic and much harder to refute argument emerges: formats cannot be resurrected because the country that made them viral no longer exists. Presenters change, the audience changes, and the society that laughs at the same things changes. The second round, says popular wisdom, almost never turns out well.

From the schedule to the welfare state

As usually happens when the issue heats up, the discussion jumps from television to political economy. The question arises of whether a party of communist origin governing in Western Europe is still communism, of whether economic liberalism leads to authoritarianism when the privileges of its elites are at risk, and where the welfare state really came from. No one yields, and the program is buried under decades of history.

Who occupies the space of irreverence today?

One current holds that the void left by the format is now occupied by creators and spaces linked to the right and VOX. If this is true, the problem would not be the what —attacking those in power— but the who: in Spain, political humor is measured by the target, not the edge. Others respond that irreverence is no one's property and that the public decides with the remote.

In the end, the only truly revolutionary instrument in the living room remains the power button. And that does not yield share.