The drama Scandal sparked heated debates even before its premiere, sparked by a trailer that teased a story of intense passion and public controversy. In Spain, the Telecinco fiction faced a strong backlash when it was accused of depicting a relationship involving a 42-year-old woman, Alexandra Jiménez, and a 15-year-old boy, Fernando Lindez. A petition from the Christian Lawyers Association urged broadcasters to halt its export, yet the first episode, aired on Wednesday, January 11, shifted the conversation from criticism to cautious praise in a remarkably short span. The show emerged as a hot topic on Spanish screens, even though initial audience engagement was moderate, tallying 1,120,000 viewers and a 10.9% share.
The premiere opens with a dramatic jolt: the hero attempts suicide, while the character Agnes, played by Jiménez, is rescued from a perilous sea by Hugo, portrayed by Lindez. Their fraught encounter leads to a scene that some deemed explicit, but many viewers highlighted the episode’s willingness to confront a troubling issue head-on and to shed light on psychological abuse. Inés, a central figure, endures a tense relationship with her husband, whose words sting, and a teenage daughter who distances herself after the trauma of a lost child leaves a lasting ache. The narrative unfolds around a desire for resolution that often collides with personal pain and difficult choices.
“You’re not old enough to want to be a mother anymore; you’re going to be a mother,” her husband mutters with a grim mix of sarcasm and resignation as they consider moving back in with their parents. This moment gradually chips away at the protagonist’s self-confidence. Inés is portrayed as both a victim and a catalyst for the surrounding turmoil, her struggles mirrored in her own fragile sense of self and in how she affects those around her. The show invites viewers to explore how a damaged sense of self can ripple outward, shaping relationships and destinies.
Indirect violence and psychological abuse
On social media, debates swirled with phrases like “Scandal marketed as a show about pedophilia, while what I witnessed is a woman harmed by a spouse who walked away after a traumatic abortion.” Critics accused the series of laundering uncomfortable themes, while supporters argued that the program presents a powerful, indirect portrayal of violence and psychological manipulation that deeply affects victims. Commentators noted that the narrative exposes how a toxic fixation can ruin lives, and many hoped the show would prompt meaningful conversations about abuse, consent, and resilience.
Alexandra Jiménez’s intense performance drew widespread admiration. The discourse around the series continued to echo recent cultural conversations, drawing comparisons to other high-profile cases and documentaries that have ignited public debate. The premiere even sparked reflections on how media shapes perception of real-world issues, reminding audiences that fiction can illuminate painful truths while provoking strong reactions among viewers.
Not all feedback was celebratory, and reception remained mixed. Some viewers and critics pressed questions about depiction, sensitivity, and ethical boundaries in storytelling. Yet the broader conversation persisted, highlighting the tension between storytelling that confronts difficult realities and the responsibilities that come with portraying distressing experiences on screen. The series thus stood at a crossroads, inviting scrutiny while also offering a lens for understanding complex emotional dynamics and the consequences of damaged relationships.