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The Pogmentary review: Just like Paul Pogba, this is all style and no substance

The Pogmentary review: Just like Paul Pogba, this is all style and no substance
The Pogmentary review: Just like Paul Pogba, this is all style and no substance

Receiving a massage on a sunny penthouse balcony as the glamorous Miami skyline glistens behind him, Paul Pogba considers the constant questions from friends and family about the transfer speculation so often clouding his career.

“People want to know everything,” he says, “but I have nothing to give them.”

In one sentence, the soon-to-be-no-longer Manchester United midfielder inadvertently sums up one of the dullest sports documentaries in recent times.

Just as the man himself has all too often shown during his recent stint at Old Trafford, an abundance of style cannot compensate for a lack of substance.

“Rated 13+ (foul language),” reads a warning that flashes on screen before the overly dramatic introductory scene to the ludicrously named Pogmentary (having insisted on such a meaningless title, it is baffling that they did not opt for Pogumentary). Do not be alarmed. The threat of misbehaviour is as exciting as this five-part series gets.

Make no mistake, Pogba seems like a nice chap. That, at least, is the impression gained after two-and-a-half hours of excessively stylised, carefully manicured, contrived inaction.

Perhaps that is the main purpose of this strange exercise. Much of the footage of Pogba the family man, which takes up around half the entire series, is charming. We see Pogba preparing to change his son’s nappy, Pogba swimming with his children, Pogba horse riding with his children, Pogba packing for his children, Pogba laughing with his children, Pogba... you get the picture.

We learn of the importance of religion to a man whose mother is Muslim and father was Christian. We hear of the charity work he and his mother undertake in Guinea. We see him open a Pogba-branded football pitch in the Parisian suburbs where he grew up.

If somehow left in any doubt about his benevolence, we hear Pogba proclaim: “I need to go back to what really matters,” before watching him hand out food to homeless people on the streets of Manchester. Subtle, this is not.

The irony of the subsequent quick transition from dishing out meals to leafing through the extraordinary abundance of clothes in his walk-in wardrobe is seemingly lost on the programme’s editors.

His house (or crib, as is the technical term for a footballer’s plush home), is precisely as you would imagine: huge tropical fish tank, foosball table featuring gold players, pool table with embossed PP initials, indoor PP-branded football pitch etc.

But the feeling remains that there has to be more to this than a blingy version of Through The Keyhole. Enter Mino Raiola, football’s most famous super-agent, who died earlier this year.

Mino Raiola (centre) with Paul Pogba - INSTAGRAM
Mino Raiola (centre) with Paul Pogba - INSTAGRAM

The longer the documentary goes on, the more you get the impression that there was another grand plan, which Raiola was central to, that fell away over time.

Filmed primarily in the spring and summer of 2021, the logic, presumably, was to capture Pogba’s departure from Manchester United and glorious arrival at a new superpower. Raiola certainly paints such a picture, telling his client: “I prefer you go away now,” rather than see out the final year of his contract.

While Pogba is on holiday in Miami in July 2021, Raiola informs him of United’s latest contract offer, which he considers unacceptable. “I will make them understand that if they really want you to stay and they want to build a project around you, this time they have to act differently and put the money on the table,” he says.

Pogba responds: “They are bluffing. How can you tell a player you really want him and offer nothing? Unbelievable.”

And then... not a lot.

Pogba shoots a promotional video for vegan football boots with fashion designer Stella McCartney, before offering the illuminating insight: “Stella McCartney is... she’s dope. She’s Stella.”

The edgy, graphic novel-style cartoons continue to be interspersed with arty, close-up slow-motion shots of a story going nowhere.

Eventually, Pogba concludes: “For a year, the media, the fans, they’ve all talked about my leaving. And in the end, the club didn’t let me go.”

So he stays, gets injured, starts fewer than half of United’s Premier League games and continues to underwhelm.

“You have to use your image,” Pogba tells his former France team-mate Blaise Matuidi at one point, as they relax on a boat in Miami. “Your image has value, so use it, bro.”

Even bereft of any substance, the documentary will undoubtedly achieve its aim of growing his brand worldwide. Maybe that is success for some.

The rest of us would just like to see him realise his abundant talent on the football pitch. That and not have to watch this again.