Ragnhild Ekner’s documentary Ultras takes audiences across the globe from England all the way to Indonesia, trying to understand the subculture of football Ultras, or soccer superfans.
With the Ultras documentary, it was a very interesting subject matter, as, being Scottish myself, football means everything to communities here, almost to the extent that it becomes tribal and a religion in its own way.
Ekner’s strength is in capturing that passion and excitement. As we travel around the world, we slowly become a part of this community of superfans.
This is seen throughout moments such as PSS Sleman fans in Indonesia, all singing in unison, some on the ledges of the car park behind the stadium, and IFK Goteborg fans in Sweden creating a tifo. There is a sense of camaraderie amongst the working-class fans, and a global community is built as football continues to be taken over by the uber-rich.
To the outsiders of this subculture, the sense of community will be a surprise. We are used to superfans being the ones to pull down polls and vandalize cities, all based on a win or loss. A Nueva Chicago fan from Argentina discusses how they take babies and children to the match, and a group will circle to ensure no objects hit them. Because the doc shows these massive crowds, it’s intimidating at times.
However, that clash between chaos and togetherness creates a sort of romance. However, it is not one-sided, not all romantic, the film still covers the cracks of those unsavoury elements that come with the Ultras culture, instead of brushing them away.
As Ekner starts the narrative of the doc with how Ultras wear balaclavas to protect their identity, but also because of policing or governmental policy, there is a sense of restriction. Specifically in Europe, see that with IFK Goteborg fans or SSC Bari fans in Italy.
Could this move set the tone for the documentary to dissect this subculture to fully understand that? Yes, those are valid feelings for the reason why these Ultras are using balaclavas, but what about those other superfans who don’t wear them?
There is an example of an interesting angle to dissect. Yes, fans are allowed privacy, but why do these Ultras get to do it when no one else does? The tone then could have been for all the great banners, noise, and atmosphere the Ultras bring — the unsavoury elements with how tribal it gets.
Instead, it felt as if the documentary was more focused on nicer aspects than tough, almost elephant-in-the-room elements. The doc goes to Poland with Lech Poznan, the fan talks about how they don’t care about politics, and we are a well-respected outfit in Europe, another way of saying well-known Ultras.
This discussion happens over a banner unravelled during a match, but this club that boycotted a Europa League match in 2015 over one Euro of the matchday ticket going to support refugees.
Most damning was how quickly it moved on from how easily that tribalism can lead to thuggery. With an unspecified fan being interviewed, suggesting it’s just the culture, which then leads into how police can rile up these Ultras.
I am not defending the Police; however, narratively, that doesn’t work when just before that doc shows footage of Ultras fighting in the middle of the street, a whole group jumping one guy after he shoots a flare and the aftermath of a business owner having to tidy up his cafe after this brawl. It comes across as a contradiction. There also has to be an acknowledgement that some of these Ultras use their culture as an excuse to be thugs.
Overall, the exploration felt as though it was taking shortcuts rather than looking at the whole picture. Ultras comes across as embracing certain elements more than others, falling in love with its own idea of what Ultras can be rather than what they actually are.
Review Courtesy of Matthew Allan
Feature Image Courtesy of Netflix