Thanks for the memories!

hyped garbage

Through painfully honest and emotional moments, the movie becomes irresistibly relatable

The plot isn't so bad, but the pace of storytelling is too slow which makes people bored. Certain moments are so obvious and unnecessary for the main plot. I would've fast-forwarded those moments if it was an online streaming. The ending looks like implying a sequel, not sure if this movie will get one

Quite simply, this is not a documentary. It is a self-indulgent waste of time, with a film- maker who is enough of an egomaniac to put his name in the film's title and put himself at the center of the story he describes as a "portrait of Maradona". There is little to nothing revealing or insightful about the footballer as when we are watching any interview footage (rather than mundane footage of Diego watching television, or going for a swim), the tone is so sycophantic as to be useless. Ironically, given the film-maker's ideological projection, it is like the most low-brow back-slapping American breakfast TV interview of Tom Cruise. The animated sequences padding out the film are ludicrous, implying Maradona was some scourge to Reagan and... Tony Blair?!?! Their cheapness betrays any claim to the film- maker being a director of great repute. This is the stuff of satire; if Mitchell and Webb had done this I would be pissing myself.What a shame then that it is completely straight-faced seriousness.

I saw this film on my VOD and I must say I was throughly disappointed. The director got good access to Maradona but it seemed more like than "Let's follow Maradona Around" rather than a documentary. The film kept playing the same darn clips over and over again, especially Maradona's "Goal of the Century," and I fell asleep halfway through.The director's English sucks yet he narrates it in yet another major weakness of the film. Nothing really is probed in-depth other than Maradona's ramblings over how he hates Bush and loves Castro and Chavez. I'm a fan of Maradona but definitely not a fan of this utterly boring piece of trash. Please save 90 minutes of your life by skipping on this turkey.

Emir Kusturica's films are often wild, inventive but ill-disciplined affairs; and his documentary about (the often wild and ill-disciplined) Diego Maradona is no exception. Maradona was of course famous as a brilliant footballer who has nearly killed himself through drug abuse and over-eating; Kusturica intersperses film of time he has spent with the star together with interviews with his fans, excerpts of his own films, comic animations, and ruminations one what Maradona represents. It's the latter which is the problem: Maradona may dislike George Bush, but that hardly makes him a revolutionary; indeed, he comes across more as a spoilt child who still can't take responsibility for his own actions. And the worship he inspires makes his physical condition seem tragic - not just old and fat, but genuinely not well (in fact, he looked far healthier recently managing his country at the recent world cup). Ultimately, the film seems determined to adore its subject, even when it's not so clear he deserves such adoration. But there are few footballers whose game or life has been nearly so interesting.

Born and raised in Brazil, and like everybody else here, I was taught to say "Pelé is better than Maradona" even before they taught me how to walk or wipe myself. As I grew older, I kept believing this was true. But the more I got to know both men, the more I thought this was probably applied only to football skills - Pelé kept giving me reasons to believe he was the perfect moron, while Maradona's subversive stance on everything found sympathy on anybody in South America more or less haunted by our CIA-sponsored, "anti-communist" military dictatorships. Even on my early years as a not-so-subversive toddler, I knew there was something wrong about Pelé's easygoing attitude towards the establishment.Not only that, but coming from a family which dealt with addiction for generations, I learned very early that Garrincha was by far a better player than Pelé. Brazilian media and FIFA can keep ignoring Garrincha because he was never the Mr. Nice Guy Pelé pretended to be, but one just has to watch how Garrincha made 2 players on the other team sit on the pitch without even touching the ball (probably one of the best moments on the World Sport's history).Unlike many of my fellow countrymen and women, my family didn't think one's accomplishments should be overshadowed by his or her tendency to abuse psychoactive substances. Nevertheless, I just couldn't ignore what Pelé did on the playing field - even though Maradona, Garrincha and probably the 2 Ronaldos were actually a lot "more magical".But I digress.This was the first Kusturica movie I've ever seen, and I was surprised to find out the auteur's got such a faithful audience like others I've had the pleasure to know - like Trier and Tarantino (yes, you heard me). I guess my ignorance towards Kusturica was probably a good thing, since I've been reading here many of his disappointed fans complaining that, ironically enough, he was too much of a fan boy on Maradona-Kusturica.I'm not so stupid as to think that socialism is the root of all evil. South America lacks true heroes, so I love when Cinema gives me and others the opportunity to know more about the life stories of such controversial people like Fidel, Che and Maradona.I just couldn't stop watching this movie, ingenuously hoping the final takes would give me some extremely-needed closure to the big mess that was Diego's life. As most of the greatest movies ever - and Dogville comes to mind -, you never get closure. You go out with a lot more doubts than certainties. And that's a good thing. In my humble opinion, "feelgood" movies are no different than cocaine. They shouldn't be called movies, for starters. They're a drug made to make you numb and feeling good about yourself. That's not what the Art of Cinema is about for me. I don't want to feel good about a movie. I want to feel challenged. I want to have my brain building new synapses, no matter how painful might the process be.Maradona-Kusturica did that for me. Surprisingly enough, as much unlikely I thought it would be, I ended up getting what goes on on the minds of those wackos at the Church of Maradona. I understand now and I admire them - this is the kind of rupture of a concept that amazes me, pretty much as Hooligans(2005) made me see through the vandalism and admire those poor guys whom at least found strength to believe in "something".Maradona is not a genius outside the playing field. He's just a guy. A very "real" guy, that does good things and bad things, like anyone else. Not even the pope gets to be nicknamed "The God"; nevertheless, Diego does his best to cope with such a fanatic crowd everywhere (his visit to Naples was out-of-this world).Many people will just ignore this movie because it is likely to praise the deeds of a cocaine addict. The kind of people that thinks that cocaine abuse (or any other drug for that matter) should remain as taboo should keep watching Titanic or Desperate Housewives. As my dentist once said, you should keep touching the wound instead of trying everything to pretend it's not there.I sympathise with people that screw up because I feel they no longer wear their masks. One could think Maradona was just a selfish bastard after all. A guy who cared for nothing else than just putting more snow on his nostrils. Funny. You get to see how his daughters, even though carrying a lot of grief, love him and like many people also think he's their god.Pelé, FIFA's Mr. Nice Guy, in the other hand... Married an underage girl, barely used his fame to help not even Brazil's football institutions, let alone the country as a whole. Later on he could come and tell that 1970's World Cup was a gift to the Brazilian people so we could have at least a little bit of happiness through all that was going on. But that doesn't change the fact that bringing Jules Rimet Trophy home helped the dictatorial government ease the always-growing social instability. Neither that he shook hands (and will keep shaking) with every and each man in power because, after all, it's so much easy than thinking about your symbolic role for a nation's populace.I pity for Edinho - the King Pelé's imprisoned and addicted son. If only his father had been more of a moron like Maradona was, he could be the one jumping on a stage and singing how his father was a god.Oh, and about football and movies... I can only hope that Kusturica ever gets to love Garrincha as much as he loves Diego, and decides to make a movie about him. That guy's certainly worth the title of Wizard of the Ball.