The 1986 World Cup was supposed to be in Colombia, but the competition’s governing body put so many demands on Belisario Betancur’s government that they had to bow out. In the resulting vacuum, Mexico emerged as the replacement host thanks to a tangled web of institutional favors. These unlikely and unofficial negotiations form the core of México 86, Netflix’s new irreverent film, starring Diego Luna.
Far from being a vibrant celebration of soccer or glorifying the collective effort of its protagonists, the film – directed by Gabriel Ripstein and co-written with Daniel Krauze – shifts its focus away from the field to unravel the frenetic political chaos that unfolded behind the scenes.
In its concise 95 minutes, this hybrid piece – straddling the line between bureaucratic satire, political thriller, and sports chronicle – exposes the seams of “el deporte rey” and dissects the corporate maneuvers that made it possible for the World Cup to return to Mexican soil. Beyond any sporting romanticism, México 86 dismantles FIFA’s elite facade to reveal the relentless economic machinery that pulls the industry’s strings.
Premiering June 5, the film takes advantage of the buzz surrounding the 2026 World Cup in North America to invite us to reflect on the hidden interests that drive modern soccer. But make no mistake – this isn’t a heavy or overly political story. México 86 is a witty comedy fueled by biting and highly perceptive humor.
Dramatizing How México Got the 86 World Cup
From the very beginning, México 86 warns viewers on screen that “some things actually happened,” making the free-form nature of the project clear. Although the filmmakers clearly drew inspiration from Rafael del Castillo, then president of the Mexican Football Federation (FEMEXFUT), and the political climate of the 1980s, their script leans more toward fiction and satire than documentary accuracy.
In an interview with El País, Diego Luna, who also executive produces the film, shared, “The writers had the freedom to create a fictional character, into whom we could weave anecdotes we’d heard here and there – some involving people we know for certain did those things, others where the perpetrator remains unknown, and still others that are mere legends.”
Netflix’s bureaucratic satire examines the fast-paced rise and fall of Luna’s fictional Martín De La Torre, a man driven by an almost suicidal ambition and an unwavering devotion to national soccer. To tell the truth, no one expects anything from our protagonist: a low-profile administrative employee who describes himself as “mediocre at home and mediocre at work.”
However, after years of being overlooked by FEMEXFUT, his situation changes abruptly when a last-minute opportunity arises to host the 1986 World Cup. Overnight, and against all odds, Martín infiltrates the upper echelons of Mexican power and becomes the cunning antihero behind one of the biggest sporting spectacles on the planet.
From the very first minute, México 86 demonstrates a vibrant narrative drive, with an energy that rarely lets up. In its first half, the plot delves fully into the frantic race for the World Cup bid, focusing on the political maneuvering, bureaucratic cunning, and negotiations necessary to outmaneuver powerful competitors like Canada and the United States, the latter led by the shrewd Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and backed by the legend of Pelé.
Soon, Martín and the Mexican delegation are indulging in every possible excess – from backroom deals and under-the-table agreements to exorbitant television contracts – to bring about the “World Cup miracle.” So we get to see fictionalized versions of influential figures, such as media mogul Emilio Azcárraga, FIFA President João Havelange, and Mexican soccer star Hugo Sánchez.
Just when everything seems to be going smoothly for the scoundrel Martín, reality throws a wrench in his plans. The tragic 1985 earthquake devastates the country’s capital just months before the tournament, putting the competition on the brink of collapse. From there, a spiral of utter brazenness begins, in which the authorities use the event as a banner for national recovery, and the film unleashes its riskiest move.
Artistically Delightful
There is no denying that the film’s center of gravity lies in Luna’s delightful and brilliant performance. The star of Andor knows exactly how to embody the bold and calculating Martín. Particularly noteworthy are his intense verbal duels in the boardrooms – spaces where the exchange of political favors and technical discussions lay bare his nuanced understanding and deep-seated thirst for power. At the same time, the supporting cast is vivid and charismatic enough to enrich the game he’s playing, rounding out this intriguing story.
Additionally, the meticulous production design by Mónica Chirinos deserves special mention for its historical accuracy and its impressive ability to capture Mexican culture. She curates objects, textures, and spaces to be powerfully evocative, successfully transporting us and immersing us in the reality they portray. From the austere offices of FEMEXFUT, through the shattered streets of a Mexico City scarred by the earthquake, to the electrifying and colossal atmosphere of Azteca Stadium, every element is meticulously conceived. This effective period aesthetic becomes a living character within the story, drawing us further in.
The Price of Ambition
In his famous 1995 book El Fútbol a Sol y Sombra, Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano asserted that “in his lifetime, a man may change wives, political parties, or religions, but never his soccer team.” It is this kind of unwavering loyalty that modern soccer has learned to exploit ruthlessly, transforming itself into a relentless business. By laying bare the machinations of Havelange and the FEMEXFUT leadership, Mexico ’86 warns about the loss of soccer’s innocence, the dangers of media monopoly, and the systemic corruption of an industry whose greed threatens to destroy its very soul.
Throughout the film, Martín delivers the greatest sporting spectacle in his country’s history, but the price he pays is his own dehumanization at the hands of the corporate monster he helped create. His downfall is the perfect dissection of what clinical psychology calls toxic ambition. Obsessed with maintaining a power game that surpasses him, he trades his identity and dignity for fleeting success. Charting his course, the film satirizes the fragile line between legitimate self-improvement and self-destructive greed.
So, Should I Watch México 86?
The answer is a resounding yes. México 86 is an exciting, intriguing, and surprisingly entertaining journey into the origins of hyper-commercialized soccer. While cinema typically portrays the corridors of FIFA through either institutional glorification or demystifying critique, this film triumphs decisively in the latter category thanks to its dark humor and clever twists. Its greatest strength is bringing to light the real drama hidden off the field. Consider it required viewing ahead of the 2026 World Cup.
