El Hormiguero has managed to turn two ants into the stars of Spanish television. Romania has watched the phenomenon closely and has reached a sensible conclusion: we want it all. The ants included as well.
Pablo Motos showed on Monday on the program some clips from Furnicuțele, the Romanian adaptation of El Hormiguero, taking the opportunity to celebrate that the format is performing very well there.
And it’s not merely an announced international version that was tucked away in a drawer. The show premiered in Romania last April and is already broadcasting its second season.
The adaptation arose after Antena TV Group officially acquired the rights to the format distributed internationally by Onza. The deal added to the versions El Hormiguero has had in other markets and confirmed something quite difficult to achieve on television: a program so closely tied to Pablo Motos’ personality could travel while remaining recognizable.
Because the clip shown on Antena 3 makes it pretty clear where that comes from.
There is the host. There is the desk. There are the guests. There are the stunts. There is that television ecosystem in which at any moment someone could end up answering a compromising question, triggering something, singing a song, or discovering that the production department has built a seven-meter machine specifically to scare him.
In short: it’s El Hormiguero.
And then the ants appear.
There Is Something About Those Ants
Scamă and Blană are the Romanian equivalent of Trancas and Barrancas, and they probably deserve one thing to be made clear before we proceed: they seem to be doing their job perfectly.
Another matter entirely is their appearance.
It’s not that they’re ugly. That isn’t the label.
They’re odd. Almost “macabre.”
Trancas and Barrancas have spent many years on television and we have their image etched in memory. That’s why seeing Scamă and Blană feels jarring. They wear the intensity in their gaze of two beings who have just returned from a place they’d rather not talk about.
You see them and you instantly want to ask them:
“Is everything all right?”
And you know they will answer:
“Yes.”
But you won’t believe it.
There is something fascinating about them. They look like two ants who have lived four more seasons than they actually have. As if between shows they don’t retreat to a dressing room, but head out to settle unfinished business.
They have an appearance that makes you wonder if they will ask the guest a question or introduce themselves that night at your home, accompanied by a consigliere.
And the best part is the contrast.
In Spain, we’ve spent twenty years with Trancas and Barrancas and we’ve fully normalized them. They’re two ants that pop up from a table, chat with international celebrities and this year, to top it off, they’ve debuted arms and hands.
But just thirty seconds of the Romanian version is enough for Trancas and Barrancas to suddenly look like George Clooney and Brad Pitt on a red carpet.
It isn’t Scamă and Blană’s fault. They’ve come to work.
I suppose it’s very hard to replicate the aesthetics of the Spanish ants. A tiny variation in material or colors can already clash. But, in this case, the change is more than evident. And they resemble each other a lot (which is impressive), albeit with a more “macabre” aesthetic. They are a somewhat Dante-esque parody of Trancas and Barrancas.
El Hormiguero Is Doing Very Well in Romania
The gag shouldn’t obscure the important news: the Romanian adaptation is finding an audience.
Antena 1 asserts that the first week of the second season clearly improved the show’s performance in its timeslot versus the same period the previous year. In its urban 21-to-54 target, the network reported increases of 120% in audience share and 73% in rating compared to the first week of September 2025. One episode also reached a 20.3% share among that specific audience. Those numbers were released by the network itself based on its Research department’s analysis, so they should be read in that context, but the trend is clearly notable.
So be careful not to laugh too much at the ants, because while we joke, they’re gathering data.
And probably that is the best news for Pablo Motos, Jorge Salvador, and the 7 and Action team.
El Hormiguero isn’t exporting merely the generic idea of seating a celebrity in front of a host. It has achieved something far more challenging: turning its universe into a format that is recognizable outside of Spain.
Interviews, humor, games, spectacle and, of course, two ants peeking up from a table.
Now there’s only one thing left: an official crossover.
Scamă and Blană visiting Trancas and Barrancas in Madrid.
The four of them together.
Pablo Motos trying to keep control.
And us finding out, once and for all, what on earth those ants have seen.
