Maradona by Kusturica Page #4

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The Cocodrilo has

an international reputation.

It's a nightclub

but we've gone further,

left the old-time nightclub behind.

In the Cocodrilo you have

girls dancing on the bar.

They do shows,

they dance all night long.

As you can see, these girls

aren't strippers, they're dancers.

After a visit to

the Cocodrillo club,

the fundamental principles

of psychiatry were shaken.

Jung's theory is that the

survival instinct leads a man to food,

and Freud claims that eros

is the basic impulse which,

through sexual activity,

ensures species reproduction.

In choosing Maradona's goals

as more tempting

than Omar's ballerinas

and the sumptuous feast,

I realised that Borges was right

when he claimed

that the tango originated in bordellos;

whether it is called rock 'n' roll or

the tango is today of no consequence.

The most important thing

is the realisation

that a new psychiatric influence

must be added to Jung's

survival instinct

and Freud's ideas on

species reproduction

the influence of Maradona's game

as the third of the important feelings

that drive mankind.

Emir! You're like everyone else!

The girls always complain!

When Diego arrives

or we show videos of his goals

all the men are like this,

ignoring the girls, who say:

"Please Omar, turn off the TV!"

And it's the same with Emir.

When you can see Maradona...

Well, let's enjoy the meal!

Uruguayan...

Hi, how are you?

Good?

How are you?

My mother...

My father...

Hey, are you deaf?

To Puebla!

Look at that goal. What a goal!

I would have been happy,

so happy to just

spend time with Dalma

when she'd come to wake me up,

and not be afraid of her.

Dalma would come

wake me up:
"Dad..."

Why? Because I was drugged out.

Giannina would slap me

and I wouldn't feel anything,

I was on drugs.

That's what

would have made me happy,

seeing my daughters grow up,

like her.

I envy Claudia.

I'm better-looking than she is,

but...

The difference is

that Claudia

shared those precious moments

with Dalma and Giannina.

You see?

Now when I watch them

in the videos

that Claudia sometimes

shows me,

I say:
"Look what I missed."

"What an a**hole I was

to have missed all that!"

Because you can't go back.

I spoiled what's most valuable,

the sentimental value...

The guilt I feel inside,

that's what I feel today,

the fact that I never spent an

ordinary birthday with Giannina

or an ordinary birthday

with Dalma. Why not?

Because when the party began

I'd go and get high.

And what did I feel? Nothing.

I felt they were my daughters,

but I didn't feel them next to me,

that we could hug each other.

I felt that my daughters

could tell I was on drugs.

Dalma,

when I'd go to kiss her,

would go like this.

The other one, no.

The chubby one, the little one,

with her character,

would come over, would give me

would lie down with me.

But not the other one.

When Diego

entered difficult times,

his wife Claudia turned into

his guardian angel,

into a woman who

held the keys to his family fortress.

Without returning to that fortress,

Diego would certainly

not have survived.

Although as my films prove,

I can't pretend to know women well,

in the case of Maradona's

it was easy for me to see that

saying that behind every

successful man stands a woman,

is an empty phrase.

Once I asked Claudia

how Diego had

managed to survive,

she replied no one asked me

how I have survived.

This only conform how limited

my knowledge of women is.

However I realized

that Claudia's battle for Diego

was not only driven by love,

but also by

an unusual religiousness.

In a slum I was born,

It was God's will

That I grow up and survive

This humble example to

face adversity

Eager to succeed in life

With each step I took

On the playground

I forged an immortal left hand

With experience

A burning ambition to make it

As a young buck,

I dreamed of the World Cup

And rising to the top in Primera

Perhaps by playing

I could help my family

From the very outset

The Doce cheered...

My dream contained a star

Full of goals and dodges

And all the people sang

The "Hand of God" was born

Sowed joy in the people

Brought glory to this land

Bearing a cross on my shoulders

for being the best

For not selling out

I confronted the powerful

Curious weakness

If Jesus stumbled

Why shouldn't I too?

Fame introduced me to

a white woman

Of mysterious taste

And forbidden pleasure

Who addicted me to

the desire to use her again

Taking my whole life

And this is a match that someday

I am going to win

From the very outset

The Doce cheered...

My dream contained a star

Full of goals and dodges

And all the people sang

The "Hand of God" was born

Sowed joy in the people

Brought glory to this land

I love you all!

- You don't want to go?

- No.

Cocaine,

instead of doing me good,

making me feel better,

shut me up inside of myself.

And any questions I had,

when I wanted to ask Claudia,

I kept them inside

and didn't know the answers.

Loneliness, you're filled

with bitterness, loneliness,

nostalgia,

that's what it gives you.

It was all inside me,

inside this body.

That was my biggest burden.

A thousand times,

the old lady tried to get me to stop,

tried to talk to me.

She wanted to ask me things

and when she did

I'd even lie to her,

because of the coke.

In the name of La Tota,

Don Diego,

and the fruit of their love,

Diego.

We are gathered together

in this Maradonian Temple

to reaffirm the commitment and love,

through the Church of Maradona,

of our brother and sister,

Gabriel Diego Chepenecas

and Alejandra Diego Troilo.

They both vow, before this altar

and cradle of Diego himself,

to keep Maradonian faithfulness

and to declare

that Diego was, is and will be

the god of football.

Our Diego who art on the pitch,

Hallowed be thy left hand.

Thy magic come,

Thy goals remembered

on earth as they are in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily joy

and forgive those journalists,

As we forgive the Neapolitan Mafia.

Lead us not into temptation,

Deliver us from Joao Havelange.

Diego.

For 20 years,

during Havelange's presidency,

Brazil did not win the championship.

You know why?

The Man up there is just.

The Old Man loves justice!

lf, for 20 years,

a Mafioso was unable to

win the World Cup,

kind of tough, isn't it?

I'm going to tell you the story.

Argentina was eliminated

from the World Cup.

We went to play against Australia.

It was a tie, 1-1.

We came back here

and we qualified, 1-0.

There was no doping case.

No drugs.

Not over there, not over here.

There was no ephedrine

over there or over here.

No cocaine over there or over here.

During the World Cup

after we beat Nigeria, 2-1,

they said:

"They're screwing us up."

I'd say Havelange

is the arms dealer,

and Blatter sells the bullets.

Alejandra,

do you swear eternal love to

your partner Gabriel,

faithfulness to

the Maradonian Church's principles,

declaring that Diego,

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