The Beautiful Game’s Grimy Underbelly: "Mexico 86" Unpacks the Alleged Backroom Deals Behind a Historic World Cup Bid

As the world gears up for the unprecedentedly expansive 2026 FIFA World Cup, jointly hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico, a timely new film on Netflix, "Mexico 86," offers a provocative, albeit loosely fact-based, glimpse into the shadowy machinations that secured Mexico its second turn as host nation four decades ago. Directed by Gabriel Ripstein, the film boldly posits that the path to hosting the prestigious tournament was paved not solely with sporting ambition, but with a healthy dose of alleged bribery, deceit, and shrewd backroom politicking. While the upcoming World Cup celebrates a new era of continental collaboration, "Mexico 86" serves as a droll, and at times uncomfortable, reminder that the pursuit of global sporting spectacle has historically been entangled with less-than-savory dealings.

The Unprecedented Triple Threat: A World Cup Beckons

The 2026 FIFA World Cup marks a monumental moment in the tournament’s storied history. For the first time, three nations – the United States, Canada, and Mexico – will share hosting duties, ushering in an era of unparalleled cross-border collaboration. This expansive approach promises to bring the global spectacle to an unprecedented number of cities and fans. Crucially, Mexico’s role in this tripartite endeavor is particularly historic. With the 2026 tournament, Mexico becomes the first nation to host the FIFA World Cup a remarkable three times, cementing its deep and enduring connection to the sport’s premier event. This upcoming tournament, therefore, arrives with a significant historical resonance, amplified by the recent release of "Mexico 86" on Netflix, which, by sheer coincidence of timing, shines a spotlight on the nation’s prior hosting experience and the alleged controversies that accompanied it.

"Mexico 86": A Loosely Fact-Based Comedy of Errors and Ambition

Gabriel Ripstein’s "Mexico 86" positions itself not as a dry documentary, but as an irreverent, darkly comedic exploration of how Mexico secured the 1986 FIFA World Cup. The film’s opening title card, a playful disclaimer stating, "Some of these things did happen," sets the tone for a narrative that blurs the lines between historical fact and dramatic license. At its core, the film chronicles the alleged exploits of Martín de la Torre, a fictionalized composite character, portrayed with a scrappy and insistent charisma by Diego Luna. De la Torre is depicted as the central figure, the man largely responsible for orchestrating Mexico’s successful bid to host the tournament for the second time, a feat that occurred 40 years prior to the upcoming 2026 event.

The film eschews a traditional exposé format, opting instead to frame de la Torre’s story as a kind of audacious lark. He is shown navigating the labyrinthine corridors of FIFA, allegedly employing a blend of lies and bribes to curry favor with the organization’s officials. Yet, Ripstein imbues de la Torre with a roguish underdog spirit, inviting the audience to, perhaps uncomfortably, root for his success. The implied narrative is that de la Torre was simply playing the game as it was, a game rife with its own set of rules and power dynamics, but doing so with fewer resources and greater obstacles than his counterparts. His strategy, the film suggests, was one of cunning and resourcefulness, a more intelligent approach to a system that favored established power brokers. However, as is often the case with such ambitious gambits, his success was ultimately to prove ephemeral.

The Ascent of an Unlikely Candidate: From Frustration to Federation Head

The narrative of "Mexico 86" begins in the early 1980s, with Martín de la Torre as a disillusioned employee within the Mexican Football Federation. He harbors grand aspirations for Mexico’s standing on the international soccer stage, dreams that are constantly stifled by the perceived lack of ambition and vision among his superiors. This period of stagnation is dramatically disrupted when Colombia, initially slated to host the 1986 World Cup, is forced to withdraw its bid due to prevailing political and economic instability.

This unforeseen development presents a critical opportunity, one that de la Torre perceives with sharp clarity. In a bold and seemingly suicidal career move, he leverages a national television interview to publicly denounce his superiors for their inaction and their failure to seize this golden chance. This act of defiance, far from leading to his downfall, has the opposite effect. His audacious chutzpah catches the attention of Emilio Azcárraga, a powerful broadcast magnate and chairman of Club América. Azcárraga, recognizing de la Torre’s drive and potential, promptly promotes him to the leadership of the federation, setting him on a trajectory to fulfill his ambitious vision.

The Charm Offensive: Zurich, FIFA, and a Controversial Victory

The film’s most engaging and energetic segment chronicles de la Torre’s "somewhat corrupt charm offensive" at a crucial FIFA conference in Zurich. This was the pivotal moment where the decision would be made regarding the replacement host for the 1986 World Cup. Against all odds, and despite the United States being considered the frontrunner, Mexico, under de la Torre’s alleged guidance, managed to secure more support from FIFA delegates. This victory, however, arrives relatively early in the film’s proceedings, and Ripstein’s narrative struggles to maintain the same level of zip and momentum thereafter, even though de la Torre’s responsibilities as host nation representative were far from over.

Beyond the boardroom politics, de la Torre’s personal life also becomes entangled with his professional ambitions. His illicit affair with his downstairs neighbor, Susana (portrayed by a sparky Karla Souza), leads to the dissolution of his marriage. This personal complication, too, is eventually compromised by his inherent aversion to honesty, a trait that ultimately undermines his relationships as much as his professional endeavors. Despite these personal failings, the film maintains a surprising degree of affection for its protagonist, suggesting that his flaws are part of a larger, perhaps more forgivable, tapestry of ambition and circumstance.

The Siren Song of Affection: Diego Luna and the Film’s Protagonist

Diego Luna delivers a performance that largely carries the film, imbuing the character of de la Torre with a sprightly and engaging energy. His ability to project the character’s slightly disreputable air while simultaneously making him relatable is a testament to his talent. However, the film’s sustained "chipper boys-will-be-boys" approach, while initially effective, eventually begins to feel dramatically counterproductive.

"Mexico 86" breezes through over a decade of what must have been complex and potentially fraught sports business negotiations in a remarkably concise 90-odd minutes. In its haste to move from one plot point to the next, the film elides crucial details, specifics, and conflicts. This leaves the audience with a sense of superficiality, prompting questions about the film’s ultimate message. Is the point that the world of soccer is inherently corrupt? Or is it that the unifying power of the sport transcends these less savory aspects? Or, perhaps, is the film simply a testament to the undeniable charisma of Diego Luna? The film’s rapid pace, while entertaining in the moment, leaves little room for deeper reflection on these more profound thematic questions.

Stylistic Flair and a Superficial Sausage-Making

While "Mexico 86" may not possess the raw grit or urgent intensity of Ripstein’s 2015 debut, "600 Miles" – a stark cartel drama that served as Mexico’s international Oscar submission – it undeniably confirms his capabilities as a director with a smooth and confident stylistic vision. The film’s visual aesthetic is meticulously crafted: the sandily desaturated cinematography evokes a sense of nostalgia and faded glory, while the production design is aptly worn, reflecting the period in which the story unfolds. The kitsch Latin pop soundtrack further enhances the film’s distinctive atmosphere, all perfectly coordinated to underscore de la Torre’s own slick and slippery charm.

As a cinematic exploration of how the World Cup "sausage" is made, the film could certainly have delved deeper and embraced a grittier, more unflinching portrayal of the alleged corruption and machinations. However, as a crowd-pleaser designed to entertain an audience with the business of crowd-pleasing, "Mexico 86" largely hits its mark. It offers a compelling, if somewhat superficial, look at the alleged machinations behind a historic sporting event, leveraging the star power of Diego Luna and a stylish directorial hand to create an engaging, albeit ethically ambiguous, narrative. The film’s release serves as a timely counterpoint to the upcoming celebrations of a new era of international sporting cooperation, reminding us that even the most beautiful games often have their roots in less than pristine soil.