Diamantino

And Sports In Prison

I was once good looking. Like many realizations in my life, I always felt five minutes too late to recognize this truth, but for a time I was definitely a cutie. I didn’t maximize my positive attributes enough, but before I went to prison, I was attractive enough to look into the mirror and be happy with the reflection, though I probably should have been happier. Now, I don’t know. I was away for almost a decade. I’m old now, I have gray in my beard. I recognize that I’m never going to be handsome again, just maybe, I don’t know, “respectable.”

This is a longwinded way of saying that I recognize that the lead actor in “Diamantino”, Carloto Cotto, is cartoonishly handsome. Young, in perfect shape, and bearing a resemblance to Cristiano Ronaldo, Diamantino Matamouros is one of those people who seem like they have the entire world in their hand. Much of the comedy from “Diamantino” comes from the look on the protagonist’s face when he runs into his form of tragedy (which is considerably less damning than our own form). For the 99.9% of us on this planet that aren’t improbably, ludicrously good-looking, seeing a face like Cotto’s covered in tears is a cruel riot. A face that beautiful looks like he’s never been hurt before, so to see existential conflict reflected across his cheeks and quivering lower lip creates a sense of comedic juxtaposition. How can a guy like this really feel any pain?

“Diamantino” nonetheless throws a lot at this whimsical pretty boy. Though he’s one of Portugal’s top soccer players, he misses a key goal during the World Cup, earning the ire of fans worldwide. What the world doesn’t know is that he was already in anguish. Diamantino, for better or worse, has been until recently a pampered simpleton. Becoming aware of an ongoing refugee crisis, he responds to skeptical fans by announcing that he will adopt a Sudanese child. The boy he settles on, the teenaged Rahim, brings a smile to his face, and cues a delightful extended montage set to Donna Lewis’ 90’s banger “I Love You Always Forever”.

Rahim is actually Aisha, however, a female Secret Service agent in disguise, taping her breasts down and burying her physique in soccer jerseys. Aisha, along with her female lover/handler, are investigating wide scale fraud being committed using Diamantino’s many businesses. Rahim receives scrutiny only from Diamantino’s twin sisters, a couple of screaming capitalist taskmasters who treat Diamantino like an asset in their portfolio. The cynicism within this relationship is softened by his own unflagging filial love for the duo.

The sisters are also protective of their brother because he’s a pivotal part of an insidious government conspiracy. The evil Dr. Lamborghini is planning a government coup armed with the most dastardly of enemies – a new national team made up of Diamantino clones. The cloning process is elaborate and multi-faceted, and Diamantino himself is a gullibly-willing participant in the process. The challenge is in transporting what would be the mind, or perhaps the essence, of a man with almost nothing on his mind. A key element to the procedure is complicated when Diamantino reveals that he is a virgin, and the thought of sexual intercourse has always seemed “too difficult.”

There are sex and gender concepts within “Diamantino” that seem, I think, queer-coded in a way which I am underqualified to describe. Diamantino finds himself growing closer to young Rahim, as if his long-dormant libido seems to be aware Rahim is actually a woman. And Aisha, as Rahim, is a self-described lesbian who nonetheless finds Diamantino charming and attractive. Perhaps there’s something to the BDSM-flavored matching outfits Diamantino’s sisters wear. Or maybe the “happy place” to where Diamantino retreats when he is on the field, where he is flanked by gigantic slow-motion puppies that kick up pink clouds. Much of this I found to be delightful non-sequiturs, though I’m a straight male watching a movie in another language. I may have missed something here.

However it is read (maybe problematically, considering the closeness of “Rahim” and Diamantino), I spent much of the movie genuinely laughing out loud. Much has been made of the last ten years in film comedy, how there haven’t been many laughs to be found at the cinema in a long time. But the death of cinematic comedy seems tied to the death of the monoculture, and the rise of hyper-specificity within our entertainment options. Just as VHS meant that many could stop cycling through the same five networks over and over again, the streaming era means that someone who otherwise wouldn’t be able to tolerate Will Ferrell no longer feels compelled to stick it out through “Daddy’s Home 2”. It doesn’t mean that comedy no longer exists, but rather that those who come to film with an open heart can always find a unique and enjoyable experience. I know nothing about soccer, I don’t speak Portuguese and many of the cultural and sexual elements of this film were a bit beyond me. And I loved every ridiculous, goofy moment of “Diamantino”.

I was in prison with many inmates from Latin American countries, and frequently, they’d come together to play soccer. I was never any good, but I enjoyed these men uniting to exhibit sportsmanship even though, back in the unit, it felt like many were ready to get at each others’ throats. Around 2015, I noticed an amusing trend – many men were vandalizing the soccer balls, specifically to illustrate the face of Donald Trump. I could see how that can elevate someone’s skill level.

I played a lot of basketball in prison, and could keep up despite never having much athleticism, speed or height. Turns out, a lot of guys raised on Sportscenter highlights and iso-ball are deceptively vulnerable to a dude with a decent halfcourt post-up game. These games never worked out, because everyone always thought I was fouling them on defense – which I was, because prison ball, quit complaining. But I never joined an organized team until I joined a volleyball squad. It was never my strong suit, but learning the “bump-set-spike” methodology helped me become a pivotal part of our squad. I recall one guy who transparently refused to learn how to “set”, to the point where he sabotaged every play. Even taking him aside, it was clear he refused to learn anything other than “hit it back to the other side”. Which of course, he could barely pull off, lacking upper body strength. He quit the team in shame – I could think of no better illustration of the mentality that leads to criminal recidivism.