México 86 arrives with a simple premise and a pointed twist: it tells the story of how Mexico won the right to host the 1986 World Cup, but it does so through Martín de la Torre, a fictional FEMEXFUT worker played by Diego Luna. The film places him at the center of a political and business story that helped shape Mexican football far beyond the pitch.

That is why Luna’s name matters here. He does not just play Martín de la Torre; he also serves as executive producer, giving the project extra weight as it revisits one of the sport’s most unusual hosting campaigns. The film is directed by Gabriel Ripstein and set in the 1980s, with a tone that leans toward realism rather than glamour as it follows a man who appears ordinary until opportunity opens in front of him.

The character is first shown being interviewed by José Ramón Fernández, then seeing a path forward after Colombia announced it could not host the 1986 World Cup. In the film’s version of events, that moment becomes the opening Mexico needed. The story also notes that no country had hosted the tournament more than once before that effort, underscoring how unusual Mexico’s successful bid was at the time.

Martín de la Torre is portrayed as a figure based on Rafael del Castillo, who led FEMEXFUT from 1980 to 1988. The film frames him as a simple worker inside the federation, but one who is close enough to the machinery of the game to understand where power sits. It also identifies Emilio Azcárraga as one of the important businessmen involved, reinforcing that this is as much a story about influence and negotiation as it is about football.

The movie does not pretend to be a documentary. Its opening text says, “Algunas de estas cosas sí pasaron,” a line that signals from the start that some events were real while others were stretched for dramatic effect. That matters because the film is built around a real historical outcome but gives its central character a fictionalized life, leaving the boundary between Rafael del Castillo’s record and Martín de la Torre’s journey intentionally blurred.

That blur is the film’s strongest move and its most obvious limitation. By turning the politics of the 1986 World Cup bid into satire, México 86 keeps the focus on football as business, a theme that has long appeared in Mexican film and documentary work, but it also asks viewers to separate what happened from what the screenplay needed to heighten. For Diego Luna, the performance is anchored in a figure who may feel real enough to carry the story, even if the facts behind him have been sharpened for the screen.

That leaves the central question less about whether Mexico won the hosting rights and more about how much of Martín de la Torre belongs to history and how much belongs to the film’s imagination. In a story built on a real national triumph, that difference is exactly what gives México 86 its edge.