Let me start by asking you this: Have you ever watched a documentary about a public figure and felt like you’ve only glimpsed a carefully curated version of their life? That’s exactly what happens with Netflix’s new three-part series on Jose Mourinho. It’s a film that revels in the chaos of its subject’s ego, yet somehow manages to leave you wondering if you’ve just seen a performance rather than a person. Personally, I think this documentary is a masterclass in how not to tell someone’s story—and it says far more about our obsession with spectacle than it does about Mourinho himself.
Mourinho’s brand of self-mythologizing is legendary. He’s the kind of figure who turns a football match into a soap opera, and this documentary leans into that with gusto. But here’s the thing: when you spend three hours watching a man stand in front of a giant mural of himself, declaring that his name is "some special s***," you begin to question whether the camera is capturing his essence or just amplifying his theatrics. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the film treats his ego as a given, not a subject for scrutiny. It’s like watching a magician perform while the audience is told, "Don’t look at the sleight of hand—just enjoy the trick!"
The documentary’s structure is another missed opportunity. It devotes ample time to Mourinho’s most iconic moments—his double at Chelsea, his treble at Inter Milan—but then rushes through the last decade of his career as if it’s an afterthought. This feels less like a comprehensive biography and more like a highlight reel for people who already know the story. A detail that I find especially interesting is how the film avoids diving into the tactical innovations that made Mourinho a revolutionary. Instead, it focuses on his feuds and fireworks, which, while entertaining, leave you wondering: What made this man tick beyond the noise?
There’s a deeper irony here. Mourinho’s career has always been defined by his ability to thrive in the spotlight, yet the documentary never really interrogates the cost of that lifestyle. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, where the camera lingers on the wreckage but never asks why the driver was speeding. One thing that immediately stands out is the absence of any real exploration into his personal life. We learn nothing about his upbringing, his political leanings (which, according to The Times, were once described as "strongly right wing"), or the contradictions that make him a polarizing figure. What this really suggests is that the film is more interested in packaging Mourinho as a larger-than-life icon than in understanding the man behind the myth.
Comparing this to Asif Kapadia’s Diego Maradona is instructive. That documentary didn’t just chronicle a footballer’s career—it dissected his soul, warts and all. Mourinho’s film, by contrast, feels like a superficial skim across the surface of a complex personality. It’s almost as if the filmmakers assumed that Mourinho’s ego would be enough to carry the narrative, which it isn’t. In my opinion, the real tragedy here is that we’re left with a portrait of a man who’s spent his life fighting against the world, yet never truly confronting the world within himself.
And let’s not forget the elephant in the room: this documentary was released as Mourinho was returning to Real Madrid, a club he once claimed to despise. The timing feels almost like a PR stunt, a way to rebrand him as a "reformed" figure while ignoring the decade of mediocrity that followed his peak. If you take a step back and think about it, this raises a deeper question: Is Mourinho still relevant in modern football, or has he become a relic of a bygone era? The film doesn’t answer that. It just leaves you with the lingering sense that we’ve all been complicit in creating a legend who may not exist outside the headlines.
Ultimately, Mourinho is a reminder that documentaries are only as good as the questions they’re willing to ask. And in this case, the filmmakers chose the easiest path: to let the subject dictate the story. The result is a film that’s entertaining, yes, but ultimately hollow. What many people don’t realize is that the truest stories aren’t the ones that celebrate the ego—they’re the ones that dare to look beyond it.
