ENGLISH VERSION. EL PÚBLICO NO SE MERECE LA BASURA QUE HACEN EN TELEVISA. QUÉ NOS PASA.

Qué nos pasa? (What’s Wrong With Us?): Histrionic Genius Trapped in Backward Television

It is a rarity at cinedebatecritica.com to dedicate space to Mexican broadcast television from the last century. Those of us who come from a university background and spend our time dissecting dramatic texts, stage productions, and high-brow comedies usually look upon those productions with justified disdain. However, a recent and accidental re-encounter in front of the screen—with an image distorted and pixelated by infamous cable network reruns—forces us to reevaluate a specific television product: ¿Qué nos pasa?, starring the exceptional Héctor Suárez.

To understand this show, one must place it in its context. Mexican commercial television was dominated by the philosophy of Emilio Azcárraga Milmo, who shamelessly declared that his obligation was to make television to entertain a "very jodida" (screwed/impoverished) lower class. Under that premise, writers and producers built comedy blocks based on predictable, sexist, homophobic scripts of an unspeakable structural poverty. If the network owners justified their mediocrity by calling their audience "jodidos," it is inevitable to conclude that the true owners of an insurmountable intellectual myopia were themselves, offering audiovisual manure as their only nourishment.

The Oasis Amidst the Plot Disaster

It is in this mud where Héctor Suárez's enormous talent shines. His shows attempted to be a critique of the daily maneuvers in the then Distrito Federal (Mexico City)—police corruption, absurd bureaucratic procedures, the IMECA index for smog, or car insurance scams—but the scripts frequently fell into the very same traps they intended to expose. Unpresentable scenes abound, such as one where a butcher sexually harasses a homosexual client with double entendres (albures), demonstrating that the critical intention was often swallowed up by the same machismo and lack of tact of the era.

Despite having scripts that today not even a basic Artificial Intelligence would approve without warning of their stupidity, Suárez's histrionic ability rescued the shipwreck. The true jewel of ¿Qué nos pasa? does not lie in the solidity of the text, but in a great actor's vital tool: pure improvisation.

A Cast That Held Up "The Little Theater"

On screen, the freshness of the interactions saved the original flaws. There we can see a very young Arath de la Torre taking his first steps—remembered for playing the son of the iconic character Doña Zoila—with a natural grace that he preserved for years. The participation of the protagonist's daughter, Julieta Suárez Gomís, also stands out. Héctor had absolute stage trust with her, taking hits from her purse while the entire production crew struggled to hold back their laughter. That authenticity, those real laughs on the verge of bringing down "the little theater" (breaking character) in front of the cameras, make rescuing these fragments worthwhile.

The guest stars played an equally peculiar role. From an Eugenio Derbez dressed as Snow White—long before he became the hyper-commercial and detestable figure he devolved into—to a perpetually young César Costa, trying to control the tides of double entendres and improvisations of the main actor.

The Rebellion, the Hierarchs, and the Blacklist

It is fascinating, and answers the historical doubt about its producers, to wonder how it was possible for Héctor Suárez to introduce critiques of the system within a company with bosses so averse to reflection. The reality is that the comedian was always an uncomfortable voice for the producers (like Humberto Navarro in his early 80s stage) and, ultimately, for the Azcárraga dynasty itself.

Suárez did not let himself be broken. His constant social critique and his creative demands generated unsustainable friction with the owners of Televisa. Indeed, these tensions culminated not only in his departure from the network but in a notorious and prolonged industry blacklist (veto) that the actor himself publicly denounced for many years, accusing the company of closing its doors to him for daring to demand intelligent, analytical, and brave television.

Today, in 2026, the problems Suárez pointed out remain intact, if not worsened by violence and political cynicism. ¿Qué nos pasa? remains a painfully relevant question. Let this be a nod to anyone who wants to take a peek, despite the horrifying image quality of its reruns, at the footprint of an extraordinary actor who managed to make art in the midst of the worst conceivable television.