A sports drama film or series typically follows the story of a protagonist who has chosen to swim upstream and carve an identity for themselves in a world where they are often regarded as an underdog. In this sense, the sport becomes the medium by which this individual reveals deeper personal growth, that which had been hidden potential, and resilience. In most cases, the narrative of the protagonist navigates various challenges in and out of the field as they undergo trials with perseverance, self-discovery, and societal pressures that have a way of shaping their experience. The first Spanish-language original series from Hulu, La Máquina, directed by Gabriel Ripstein, treads a similar territory by following the story of an aging pugilist. But every punch lands in the wrong places. With an underutilized structure, the series fails to render an effective narrative, with one growing increasingly disconnected from the characters and their stakes equally. With almost no coherence and heartfelt progression, the drama feels repetitive and uninspired, missing the mark of what could have been an intense and gripping sports tale.
Esteban Osuna (Gael García Bernal), aka La Máquina, a popular boxing companion from yesteryear, loses an important match. His manager and childhood friend, Andy (Diego Luna), tries to revive Esteban’s career through a rematch. This gives Esteban a chance to prove himself, as he has been losing matches quite often. Sixto (Jorge Perugorría) trains Esteban and prepares the aging sportsman to reclaim his honor in the boxing ring. Andy is also dealing with personal turmoil, as he and his wife are struggling to have a child, with his mother constantly pressuring him to provide an heir. Adding to the pressure, Esteban has been experiencing episodes of hallucinations. It is getting worse with each passing day. His ex-wife, Irasema (Eiza González), comes to his aid and accompanies him to a physician. Meanwhile, Andy receives a threatening call from the underworld, demanding that Esteban lose a match against a British boxer. Andy tries to persuade Esteban but fails, and the two drift apart. As Esteban prepares for his toughest battle yet, he must first close the door on a devastating chapter from his past.
The biggest and most glaring flaw of the series is the way it tries to infuse comedy into the story through Andy. This attempt never fully lands and detracts from our engagement with the struggles and hardships that Esteban faces at every turn. His psychological disorder seems one more familiar trifle, a clichéd device of adult trauma provoked from his traumatic childhood experience. It is an overused idea in far too many other series where the device has been leveraged more effectively. Even the threats from the underworld seem like one more underdeveloped trope without depth, unable to create any genuine tension or fear. There were genuine moments in the series, like Esteban reuniting with his estranged family after a long time, the intense confrontations between Esteban and Andy, or Andy revealing his medical condition to Esteban. Yet such scenes, as careless as they were designed, lacked sufficient delicate impact they could have and should have mustered. Even the dream-like sequences toward the end feel indulgent and unnecessarily stretched. The resonance that could have given these moments greater impact was diluted by the filmmaker’s inconsistent execution. At times, the series feels like a rejected feature film screenplay stretched into multiple episodes. The result is a story that lacks focus and consistency.
Moreover, throughout the series, it never truly felt like it centered around a boxer. A few training scenes and two fight sequences were insufficient to convey the rigorous journey of a sportsperson striving for success. Esteban comes across more as a wealthy individual grappling with hallucinations rather than a struggling boxer. Although he practices punches occasionally, he never gives the impression of being a dedicated athlete facing challenges. Instead, boxing is treated more like a side note in the narrative. Sixto appears more as a therapist and motivational speaker than a trainer. He lacked the authoritative presence one would expect from a boxing coach. Never in its running time across any of the six episodes do the boxing matches translate into a strong medium for a roller coaster of emotions—from the thrill of victory to the agony of defeat. It never becomes a medium through which we can live vicariously through the protagonist and experience the ups and downs of competition, drawing hope from his stories of grit and determination. Irasema, a journalist determined to expose the hidden realities of the underworld’s involvement in boxing matches, is also underdeveloped and feels like a passing plot. Her investigation lacks depth and appears to receive minimal effort. It’s much like the overall screenplay of the series, which suffers from similar shortcomings. Very little in the series feels organic, with each moment treated like a checklist of actions.
The lead performances in the series elevate an otherwise shaky narrative. Gael García Bernal is the troubled Esteban: physically robust, cheekily popular among his peers, yet carrying within him unhealed scars from his past. He suffuses the inner turmoil of a man trying to hold himself together, wrestling with unresolved trauma, into his performance. Diego Luna, as Esteban’s manager Andy, proves willing to do absolutely anything and willing to go to any lengths to help his friend overcome the obstacles in his life. With this part, Luna brings out the unpolished vulnerability of the character. This becomes even more apparent as his relationship with his considerate wife and domineering mother descends into chaos, while he struggles to manage the expectations of both his personal and professional life.
In many aspects, Luna’s performance overshadows Bernal’s as he works his way through complexities with an effortless elan. Esteban and Andy are tormented souls within their own command situation, with seemingly no easy way out. Their problems are forced on them by circumstances. The relationship between them—rooted in years of their own history—adds a layer of stirring intensity and richness to their journey. Bernal and Luna, who gained fame initially with Alfonso Cuarón’s remarkable coming-of-age drama Y Tu Mamá También (2001), bring a kind of sense of verisimilitude to the roles. Their chemistry, though evident, is unfortunately undermined as the screenplay meanders excessively. Eiza González and Jorge Perugorría are also remarkably good as the ex-wife of Esteban and the coach, respectively. Sadly, these characters might have gone further had they started off with the provided definition instead of following the drift in the story.
Emiliano Villanueva‘s cinematography captures the flashy yet uneasy world of the series in a candid style and brings genuineness to every scene. There is a richness to the framing that makes us truly believe and feel we are one with the world on screen, really going through its contrasts and complexity. The care with which editors Yibran Asuad and Miguel Musálem handle Esteban’s unsettling life underscores his increasing detachment from the other characters. The pain he experiences from his fractured relationship, which makes it impossible for him to express his inner feelings, is juxtaposed with moments of fleeting intimacy and connection that highlight the depth of his struggles. The boxing matches, however, do not have the punch and elan that otherwise give one an adrenaline rush and, therefore, take away the joy in awaiting the culminating events. The background score by Tomás Barreiro seems to have been envisaged as something that gives more humor to a situation but only ends up taking away from the seriousness of the issue. The production design by Sandra Cabriada has been an integral part of the film and lends credibility to the milieu.
As a limited series, the storytelling in La Máquina stands out like a sore thumb. It delivers fluffy and vacuous thrills that fail to engage us and allow us to truly participate in the adversities and dilemmas of the protagonist. The events feel like they’re simply going through the motions, never fully committing to their core themes or character motivation. Thus, it leaves us with a superficial and unengaging experience. Given the promising and strong premise, we deserved a better one, especially considering the talented pool of actors and technical expertise involved. It’s a weary watch without much emotional resonance or impactful moments.
