Maybe 90 Minutes (now streaming on Peacock) could be subtitled Welcome to Ecatepec. This Spanish-language comedy-with-dramatic-flourishes follows the bumbling exploits of a deeply amateur soccer team in Ecatepec, a densely populated municipality comprising a solid chunk of Greater Mexico City. How deeply amateur are the Navajas? Well, they’re a rogue’s gallery of misfits led by a borderline-elderly franchise owner who also happens to be the goalie, and an auto mechanic by day. So yeah, they’re scrappy and silly, but the pride they take in what they do and who they are and where they’re from allows us to take them seriously – sometimes, at least.
Opening Shot: An establishing shot of bustling Ecatepec.
The Gist: Gil (Alvaro Guerrero) narrates over a slo-mo soccer riot that zooms in on his team, the Navajas, as chaos erupts around them: one guy’s an exotic dancer and ball hog, another’s a wannabe hip-hop star, and that one over there is a beleaguered family man, etc. We see Gil get cracked over the head with a bottle, which implies that his recollection of events might push him into unreliable-narrator territory. Which is funny, from a certain point of view.
But you can’t concuss Gil’s spirit. He loves representing Ecatepec via the Navajas, as pathetic a group of ragatags as they can be. We watch as he sits in the grungy wood-paneled office of a league officiant who’d rather be playing computer solitaire than dealing with the aftermath of the riot. He fines the two teams 100,000 pesos each, and considering the sorry state of the Navajas, coming up with the dough will be tough. The other team is owned by Yuriel (Raul Mendez), the son of a deeply moneyed and incarcerated gangster, for whom spending 100,000 pesos is like you or I putting another dime in the jukebox, baby. Gil exits and Yuriel pays in cash and adds in a bribe for good measure, then gets to bribing city officials to let his “legitimate business” bulldoze the Navajas’ stadium to build a casino. Or trying to bribe them, anyway – some folk around here are too principled to cow to thugs.
The Navajas, though, are in an existential quandary. The only way they can pay the fine is to win an upcoming tournament, and considering their skills, you might as well ask an ant to swim the English Channel. But they’re determined. This team has been part of Gil’s life for decades, and he’s built them to be the tough sons-of-dogs they are. They have soul. They have pride. They are the Navajas! They are all Gil has, being estranged from his wife and daughter and grandson. And they have a decrepit old coach who kicks the bucket and puts them into an even deeper hole. Just as they sit down to toss a few back in his memory, some thugs bust into the bar and rob them – and they deep sigh and hand over their wallets. This shit happens all the time around here these days. It’s getting old.
Desperate, Gil drops in on Veneno (Jose Maria de Tavira), who looks a little worse for wear, although he says he’s happy here working in this little restaurant, and he’ll never be enticed to coach the Navajas. NEVER. Ever. Ever ever! Veneno’s got some baggage – his stellar soccer career was derailed by an accident of some kind that now finds him shuffling around on a prosthetic leg. And with Veneno’s “no,” Gil finally hits rock bottom. Is this the end of the Navajas? Or will Veneno change his mind by the end of the episode and give this season of television a reason to exist?
What Shows Will It Remind You Of? 90 Minutes might not exist without the popularity of futbol-based series Welcome to Wrexham or Ted Lasso.
Our Take: The premise of 90 Minutes is overly familiar – a team of colorful losers tries to save itself via the return of a traumatized former hero in need of redemption. But as the capital-T They say, it’s not always the story but how it’s told, and this one proceeds with a well-considered blend of broad comedy and mediumweight drama, bolstered by colorful characters and an enriched sense of place that shows considerable affection for Ecatepec. If the show didn’t communicate how its setting feel like home for Gil, the Navajas and the people in their periphery, its sense of dramatic stakes would be significantly diminished.
The gut feeling here, though, is that 90 Minutes will unfold predictably, as so many underdog-sports stories inevitably do. Can you have a second season of a series if its central sports entity loses games, goes bankrupt and has its stadium demolished? Well, maybe – if it’s daring enough to challenge its audience and writers. And while the debut episode leans away from its sitcom tendencies, it strikes more of a comfort-food tone than one that’s going to defy too many expectations. But it’s nevertheless an endearing watch so far, with a light touch, salty dialogue, consistent laughs and characters boasting comedic and dramatic potential.
Sex and Skin: None in the first episode.
Parting Shot: Veneno dons a look of grim determination as he limps out of Gil’s auto garage.
Sleeper Star: Teresa Ruiz plays Gil’s adult daughter Alma, and she counterbalances the series’ goofier qualities with a grounded and naturalistic performance.
Most Pilot-y Line: “Who’s gonna want to coach a bunch of f—ing washed-up, screwed-up, out-of-shape, beer-bellied, goofy-ass has-beens?” – one of the Navajas has a brutally realistic view of the state of his beloved team.
Our Call: 90 Minutes is thus far a fun, well-paced show. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.