‘In The Hands of the Gods’ is an amazing film, I can’t put it any more clearly than that. It’s not going to be a huge release, and is never likely to be a big box office hit, but it deserves recognition. The film charts the true story of five young, British freestyle footballers [soccer players to our American friends] who blag a flight to New York and set out with no money and no real plan across the Americas to Argentina in the hope of meeting their hero, Diego Maradona. (Oh, and for those who don’t know, football freestyling is performing a series of choreographed tricks on the ball, and let me tell you it really takes some skill!)

The film is a first-rate road trip tale, which meets all the criteria you’d want, but avoids the pitfalls often blundered into by its Hollywood peers. And it is shot as a documentary, which gives the film a real edge. The group of lads, Danny, Jeremy, Woody, Sam and Mikey, come from a variety of backgrounds and have all struggled with various aspects of their lives, and it is this dynamic between them which forms the pulsing heart of the film. But perhaps its greatest achievement is that it keeps us engaged with the pilgrims throughout their trip. The narrative is not distracted by the myriad of scenic stops, nor is it dragged down into the tangential narratives that dog so many of it’s peers in the road trip genre - love interests, differences of opinion and ideology, as well as zany obstacles and difficult moments are all treated succintly in the masterfully sprawling cinematography, that tantalises the eye with the rapid blur of images that we truly experience when travelling. The speedy progress of the plot allows it only to dwell on the most important moments of the tale: character revelations, plot twists and defining group moments are depicted with sensitively and, most surprisingly, believably. It also means that the film avoids the painfully obvious use of scenery as as an ideological bludgeon, a problem that dogs many a good film (The Motorcycle Diaries, for example). But here arguments, debates, passionate exchanges and heartwarming moments are simply punctuated, and therefore enhanced by, the stunning shots of the many locales the heroes pass through, as well as the astounding fancy footwork performed by the group as they attempt to scrape together cash.

Through its documentary style and the shunning of exaggerated ‘moments’ and elaborate scenery shots, the film exuded truth - and this heightened our feel for the passion of the charismatic journeyers whose story it is impossible not to become embroiled in. The lads themselves were from a mish-mash of backgrounds, but their decisions, outlooks and desires were presented in an admirably neutral way. At a number of points I came close to disliking characters for the paths they chose, particularly where it involved separating from the rest of the group, but the reasons behind their decisions were always presented impartially by the documentarists - and this worked greatly in their favour. Only when Mikey succeeded in reaching the funds he needed, and ran to hug the film crew was their involvement even remotely evident.

Aside from being an entertaining and well-made documentary, the film has a wealth of enduring imagery. The point at which two of the lads stay with a poverty-stricken Guatamalan family who take them in is an image I won’t forget in a hurry, expecially when Sami, who lived in Somalia when civil war broke out, reminisces about his own turbulent past with his arm around one of the host children. The endless list of encounters with spectators as the boys ply their art in the hope of pulling together their funds loses none of its honesty and poignancy for its repitition. Most of all I cannot emphasise strongly enough the power of the last scene, which i refuse to reveal but can only say that it is a great cinematic symbol for the passion, pride, camerarderie and strength of the pilgrims.

If you can get to a cinema that shows this film, I suggest you do. Regardless of whether you’re a football fan, or whether you buy into the format of the travel tale, you cannot fail but to be uplifted by this story -which oozes with truth, honesty and hope from every cinematic pore. A gem of British cinema which I dearly hope gets the cult status it deserves.