‘Lali: Time to Step Up’ Review: The Making of an Artist in Full Control (Netflix)

I have a bit of a problem with Lali Espósito. I genuinely like her: she strikes me as hugely talented — as an actress, as a singer, as a versatile all-around performer. I agree with almost everything she stands for: her social, political, cultural views, her advocacy for minority rights. I admire her personality, her drive, the way she navigates her career and deals head-on with setbacks, including the ones she’s faced recently. So… what’s the problem? Her music — the songs, the aesthetic, the type of show she puts together — simply doesn’t do much for me. I find it polished and professional, but it leaves me cold. And believe me, I want to like it; yet, with a few small exceptions, I can’t quite cross that border.

None of this matters to most readers, of course, but I feel the need to say it before talking about this documentary, which tries to piece together the last few years of Lali’s life — a sort of post-pandemic reinvention. Music is at the center of the film’s structure: it follows her Disciplina Tour and the making of the companion album, ultimately titled Lali. It all begins with a kind of personal and professional crisis: unsure about her next step, she heads to Spain to shoot the series Sky Rojo, then returns to Argentina determined to make a more personal, introspective record.

The core of Lali: Time to Step Up revolves around the preparation, launch and development of that tour, which took her for the first time to massive venues like the Movistar Arena and, later, the Vélez Sarsfield stadium. Even more screen time is dedicated to the creation of the album, with remarkably crafted behind-the-scenes footage. The cameras follow her closely: rehearsals, arguments, creative debates, family moments, and a string of charming, candid scenes that may be more “staged” than they appear — but still feel natural, much like she does.

Lali: Time to Step Up doesn’t stray far from the now well-established “confessional pop-star documentary” format popularized in recent years by Taylor Swift and others. The sheer volume of content artists and their close circles generate for social media has effectively turned them into filmmakers — amateur or not — and the movie mixes these textures: grainy, intimate phone videos alongside sweeping drone shots of stadium crowds. Among all of that, the glimpses of her fans losing their minds when they see her can be genuinely moving, as is the central place she gives — in her music, her image, her worldview — to the LGBTQ+ community.

Some viewers might come looking for her take on the tense situation with Argentine president Javier Milei. The topic does come up briefly, almost like a flash-forward, but the documentary doesn’t add much beyond what’s already known: the attacks from Milei and his online trolls after Lali publicly expressed her “sadness” over the election that brought him to power. But that’s not the film’s focus, nor is her current and very public romantic relationship.

Lali: Time to Step Up is a polished, carefully assembled promotional documentary, one that Lali’s devoted fans — and anyone invested in her albums or stage work — will no doubt enjoy. More casual viewers, those drawn to her persona for reasons that have little to do with the music itself, may feel there isn’t much to dig into here. The film only briefly glances back at her early career — with home videos from when she was 13 or 14 — but it’s not really a biography. It’s an intimate celebration of her achievements, earned through effort, talent and, naturally, discipline. Whether one happens to like her music or not becomes, in that light, a secondary issue.