Football's lost souls: a journey into the hearts of ultra fans
The roar of the crowd, the flashing pyrotechnics, the unwavering loyalty – it’s a spectacle of devotion, but beneath the surface lies a complex world. Ragnhild Ekner’s new documentary, ‘Ultras,’ delves into the roots of this global phenomenon, uncovering a surprising need for community and belonging in an increasingly atomized society.
Beyond the violence: a search for connection
From the icy plains of Sweden to the vibrant terraces of Morocco, Ekner’s film traces the rise of ‘ultras’ – hardcore football supporters – revealing a movement born not just from passion for a team, but from a profound yearning for identity and solidarity. It’s a story of makeshift families, forged in the heat of competition, where shared rituals and a fierce sense of collective purpose offer a counterpoint to the isolation of modern life.
Many viewers might be initially repulsed by the darker aspects – the violence, the criminal elements – but Ekner skillfully avoids judgment, instead focusing on the underlying motivations. As one female ultra eloquently states, “You can’t come in [to the terraces] with a ring, or with lipstick or with make-up,” – a powerful assertion of belonging and a rejection of superficiality.
The roots of rebellion
The documentary highlights how ultra groups have, historically, served as a voice for the disenfranchised, mirroring the spirit of movements like the Arab Spring. ‘If you cannot speak,’ one activist proclaims, ‘the stadium will speak for you.’ This assertion underscores the ultras’ role as a platform for marginalized communities, offering a space for expression and resistance.
However, the film doesn’t shy away from confronting the uncomfortable truth: the overlap between ultra culture and organized crime. In Italy, for example, some ultra bosses have become deeply involved in drug trafficking, highlighting the precarious balance between the movement’s ideals and its potential for exploitation. Yet, as one interviewee points out, “Subcultures have always been violent.”
Ekner’s approach – a ‘tribute’ rather than a critique – allows her to explore the contradictions inherent in the ultra phenomenon: their capacity for both generosity and brutality, their embrace of tradition alongside their defiance of authority. It’s a reflection, she suggests, of the broader societal trends—the longing for roots in a world increasingly defined by mobility and detachment.
Ultimately, ‘Ultras’ isn’t just a film about football; it’s a poignant exploration of the human need for connection, belonging, and purpose – a need that resonates powerfully in an age of unprecedented social fragmentation. The movement, it seems, offers not just a spectacle, but a refuge.