Here is a visually epic and surprisingly positive documentary about a maligned subculture: football ultras. Director Ragnhild Ekner is an IFK Göteborg fanatic, but she is even more of an ultra for ultras overall, and covers impressive ground here – from Sweden to Morocco, Italy to Indonesia – to stress what a universal phenomenon they are. While acknowledging ultras’ collective force – what Martin Amis once called “the Jupiter of the crowd” – her main line of argument is that becoming a super-fan is an act of individualistic rebellion against the suffocating political and economic status quo.

Ekner also insists that, as much as an act of opposition, this hardcore fandom is primarily about family. She, and others here, testify to the strength of this solidarity, to which the football itself can almost be incidental, and where belonging gives rise to a fervent creativity. A long sequence is devoted, threaded through the film, to the creation of tifos, giant banners unfurled by the crowd featuring club insignia or fantastical tableaux. The Göteburg effort shown here took an estimated 2,200 man hours, €30,000 worth of labour, all the work and materials donated out of love. The synchronised performance by the supporters of Java’s PSS Sleman – turning a terrace into a quasi-pixelated display by brandishing sheets of paper – is jaw-dropping.

Leading the chorus with her philosophical voiceover, Ekner’s partisanship means she is not too concerned with interrogating the many contradictions here. Fandom may be empowering for young Muslim women – but how does that square with the conformity ruling the Argentinian stadia, where female supporters must abide by macho codes? And skating euphemistically over hooliganism, even given the film’s celebratory remit, feels remiss – especially in the current global political climate where many ultras’ far-right and paramilitary affiliations count.

Even the aesthetics showcased here – the billowing flags, the coordinated masses – have a latent fascism Ekner prefers to ignore. Luckily, she also taps other associations that intriguingly position ultraism as a lifegiving, elemental source – the sound of crashing ocean waves underneath cascading chants, or a slow-fade out to a tree canopy as a Nueva Chicago follower talks about fandom helping her overcome the grief of losing her son.

Other segments make clear the director’s view that ultras can be politically progressive: the British non-league faithful reclaiming the sport from the Premiership’s hyper-capitalism, or the role played by al-Ahly diehards during the Tahrir square protests. It may be a partial view, but it’s hard not to be swept along.