:: IFFK 2008 ::

If director Emir Kusturica had just compiled random footage of Maradona and allowed it to play, Maradona would have been a far better film. Instead, so obsessed is Kusturica with stamping his own touch, to drawing attention to his own presence, that his contribution is more a burden to the film than anything else.

What Kusturica forgets is that in any documentary about the Argentine legend, the story is Maradona himself. The film tries to flow at its own pace, but is regularly interrupted by the banal commentary of Kusturica, in a mostly incomprehensible accent. It also becomes clear that the director is ill-equipped to offer any new insights into the vigorously documented life of Maradona. Without this intellectual orientation, the director's background voice only serves up tiresome platitudes.

There is also the criminal trivialization of a serious, emotive subject as tasteless animation is introduced before the start of each section. Here we have Maradona (in animated form, of course) squaring up with a ball against the likes of Thatcher, Blair and Bush, eventually heaping some form of cheap insult. If any humour was intended, the audience watching at IFFK couldn't find any.

What saves Maradona, in the end, is Maradona himself. Diego Maradona is such a lively, engaged subject that he manages to light up a film, even with as many problems as this one. In the interviews that the director conducts with the legend, Maradona is the incredible character he is, witty, honest and emotionally charged. Maradona compares the Hand of God goal to 'pickpocketing an Englishman's wallet', calls Bush 'human garbage' and talks about his love for Latin America. These are, by far, the most riveting moments of the film.
Even here, Kusturica is not content to allow Maradona a free run on the stage, the camera focusing on the director an inordinate number of times.

Then we have the extraordinary canvas of his life, filled with anecdotes and miracles, incredible heights and miserable depths – a treasure trove for anyone who wishes to tell a tale. Kusturica often uses footage of Maradona's audacious goals, intermittently in the narration. These are goals of such breathtaking beauty, of Martian brilliance, that they mostly send the audience into delirious convulsions of joy.

The best parts of the documentary footage are the sequences related to the Church of Maradona, a religious sect named and conceived in the footballer's name. Another poignant moment is the beautifully shot scene of Maradona singing a song written about him, in one of Buenos Aires' nightclubs.

Yet these are rare moments where the director's agency leads to beneficial results. Usually his interventions stifle the rhythm of Maradona, which had enormous potential, if only Kusturica had allowed Maradona to reign on the stage, just like on the football field.