Drazen

I can’t say I’m being objective here—but honestly, I don’t want to be. Dražen touched something deep in me, and made me cry like I hadn’t cried in a long time watching a film. Because this wasn’t just cinema: it was reliving someone who has always been more than a basketball player to me. Dražen was my idol, my reference, my hero. And this movie, despite its flaws, brings him back to life on screen.

This is not a documentary or a sports chronicle. It’s an intimate portrait, focused on the man rather than the legend. It works best when it dives into his family relationships—especially with his mother—and when it captures that almost obsessive passion he had for training, for improving, for achieving the impossible. Seeing him as a child, so stubborn and so full of heart, broke me. We already know how his story ends, but here they choose not to show the accident—instead, they remind us of what he was: light, not tragedy.

The main cast performs well, but Zrinka Cvitešić deserves special mention as Biserka Petrović. What strength, what tenderness, what nuance. And Romina Tonković, as Renata—Dražen’s great love—plays her with such softness it hurts. Their story is simple, but it moves you. And although the script doesn’t always go deep, it leaves an emotional mark.

It’s not perfect. Some major games and key moments—especially with the national team—are missing, and parts of the film feel more like obligatory steps than emotional beats. The U.S. part is the weakest, and the ending is a bit too sweet. But even so, the film achieves something rare: you leave the theater with a tight chest and a full heart.

Dražen isn’t just a biopic. It’s a love letter to someone truly one of a kind. A film that, while it may fall short historically, hits the mark emotionally. And for that—because it made me cry, remember, and love him even more—it’s already something special to me.