Tuya, mía… te la apuesto —also known as La pena máxima or Penalty Kick— is one of those films that seem to believe football, shouting, clichés and an exaggerated protagonist are enough to build a comedy. But they are not. A comedy has to be funny. And this one simply is not. The idea could have worked. A football fanatic who turns a match into the absolute center of his life, confuses passion with obsession and risks everything he has because of a national team is a recognizable starting point. Many films have been made about fans, superstitions, decisive matches and lives ruined by a passion taken to absurd extremes. The problem is that here there is no real perspective, no irony, no affection for the character and no well-used bite. Just noise. The film wants to be a popular comedy, but most of the jokes are clumsy, predictable or simply nonexistent. Everything seems based on repeating the same idea over and over again: Mariano is an unbearable fan, Mariano shouts, Mariano gets into trouble, Mariano makes a fool of himself. But repeating a caricature does not turn it into a character, much less into something funny. At some point, the film stops feeling like a story and starts feeling like it is punishing the viewer with the same joke for an hour and a half. Adrián Uribe does not help. His performance is always above the scene, as if exaggeration alone were enough to be funny. The character is already written as unpleasant, but the performance pushes him even further into irritation. It is hard to laugh with someone who has no nuance, generates no sympathy and seems built only out of tics, gestures and shouting. Comedy needs rhythm, precision and truth, even when it is absurd. Here, almost everything feels forced. The only one who really comes out well is Julieth Restrepo. She has presence, naturalness and a way of being on screen that makes her feel as if she belongs in a better film. Her character is not written with much depth either, but the actress manages to give her some life and dignity. She is, by far, the best thing in the cast. In fact, the more she appears, the more obvious it becomes how poor everything else is. It also fails as a football film. It never truly conveys the emotion of a match, collective madness, or the mixture of faith, superstition and suffering that can define a fan. It remains stuck in the flattest stereotype: the loud, irresponsible, sexist, childish and ridiculous supporter. There could have been satire there, even an interesting critique of sports fanaticism. But for that, the film needed intelligence, and it never finds it. Tuya, mía… te la apuesto is very bad. Very, very bad. Not because it is simple, or popular, or because it aims for easy humor. There are silly comedies that work wonderfully. The problem is that this one barely works at all: it is not funny, not moving, not surprising and it does not even use football well as a comic engine. Apart from Julieth Restrepo, who proves she is above the material, the rest is a succession of lifeless and unfunny scenes. One of those films that makes you wonder how something with such an obvious premise can end up having so little.