All language subtitles for Ultras.2025.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.GG - YTS.BZ]

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I saw a dad with his daughter
on the tram on the way to a game.

They had their jerseys on,

and the dad was bragging to her
about their VIP tickets.

She could have popcorn and soda,
everything she wanted.

Fanta, maybe?

The girl answered,
"I don't want to sit in the VIP."

"It's like a cage."

"I want to be over there,
where it's dangerous."

GOLD

In a way, football is not important.

But it's also fucking important,
you know?

There's a reason why you won't see

the faces of the people
talking in this film.

That is not what's important here.

This is something collective.

Something beyond the economy's
wish for people to submit themselves.

The world's most popular subculture.

I see it as an act of resistance,
an uprising against loneliness.

A defiance of logic:
to spend your energy

on something that is
not absolutely necessary.

It's driven by something else.

It is the intoxicating power.

It is the greatest consolation.

It is the only constant.

It is the best security.

It is the ultimate euphoria.

It is the strongest companionship.

It is the radical happiness.

Hiya. What's up? Hey.

Hello. All good?

Every time you meet up at the tifo spot,
at the pub or in the stands,

you shake everyone's hand.

The whole crew, 20 to 30 people.

The stadium experience
is transversal, enriching.

It makes you walk down the street

and greet the poor and the rich
in the same way.

It's not simple trying
to define what ultras are.

When I started, there was no definition.

No one posed that question.

I was one of the first ultras in Bari.

At first, it was spontaneous.

Genuine, authentic,
without much thought.

There was no specific mentality
or rules.

We just went to the stadium
with friends.

We wanted to cheer on the team.

And to become protagonists.

Since I was a child,

I used to see these guys with drums
cheering and shouting,

and I said to myself,
"I want to go there when I'm older."

I was still too young,

but after a few years,
I started going alone,

leaving my father
as we walked into the stadium

and running off to the ultras section.

I was fourteen years old.

Supporter culture enriches life,

and helps you find
your place in the world.

It makes you part of
a shared experience.

A shared feeling.

It's like its own dimension.
It's truly liberating.

Even if it is enclosed in a stadium

for a meaningless thing called football.

How did it change?
First of all, the laws changed.

There have been
more restrictive laws.

This distorted the spontaneity
that was there at the beginning.

The first to bring flags to the stands
were the ultras of Torino.

They mixed South American
and English cheering.

They brought in big banners, drums,

and flags, which are more typical
for South America.

Argentines carry it deep within,
underneath the skin.

A lot of adrenaline.

Things like work, marriage,
and responsibilities are put aside.

Even if a family member is dying,
people still go to the match.

Everything else is neglected.

It is a passion.

I don't know how to explain it.
It is everything.

Argentines yearn for adrenaline.

On match days,
the entire street is closed.

Nothing is open until the match is over.

My team is Nueva Chicago.

It was founded in 1931

in a butchers' neighbourhood.

To an outsider, the fans look insane.

But inside, we're a family,
and we take care of each other.

Some people are terrified
by us Chicago fans.

But no, only the ones
on the inside can talk about it.

There are kids and little babies
among us.

When they are sleeping,
we make a circle around them

and try to make sure
they don't get hit or anything.

In the midst of the avalanche,
there are sleeping children.

What kind of people
are the Barra Bravas?

It takes strong character.

Although I'm a woman,
I'm not afraid of anything.

And I'm surrounded by very tough guys.

In the middle of the Barra Bravas.

You can't come in with a ring on,

or with lipstick, or with make-up.

You have to be like a man.

And I feel that I have that attitude.

I'll tell you something.

I lost my son two months ago.

I'm struggling.

When Chicago started playing,

my husband said to me, "Let's go".

I went and... focused on that.

In that moment,
it was like I was with my son again.

It keeps me distracted
and my feet on the ground.

I enter a different reality.

I don't dwell on the pain.

I think of my son
and remember the beautiful moments.

But when I go to the pitch,

I watch the game and the sky.

Even after everything,
I find myself feeling...

...a kind of peace.

And I come home serene.

It does me good.

I met up with my gang.
My son was with me.

He was ten or eleven then.

We had a few beers and took
the underground to the stadium.

It was an away game.

Our crew filled up the carriage.

We sang songs
and used the walls as drums.

The whole subway shook
when we jumped.

Suddenly, my son said,
"Mum, did you see?

"That lady got off when we got on,
even though this wasn't her stop."

It was the first time he saw someone
being afraid of what he was part of.

"She doesn't know us, and we're loud.
Maybe she was frightened."

"But you know there's no need
to be scared, right?"

Have you ever seen

Your life getting brighter

A dream that could come true

Our team will become champions

Through all the years that passed

We never gave up on you

Day after day

The desire in our heart is always there

It is an honour

To stand by the side of our heroes

To always fight,
to never lose our hope

We will celebrate, comrades

When we reach our goal,
our chests will be full of pride

I give you all that I've got

Our Javanese Super Eagles
will become champions

I sacrifice everything

Until it comes true

Until it comes true

Until it comes true

It's just like love.
Every time I see them play,

I love my team more.

Indonesian women are still
treated as second-class citizens.

- We often come second.
- That's right.

Regardless, we don't let it
dishearten us.

The goal of Ladies Curva Sud is
to give female supporters a safe place

in order for us to be
an equal part of the support.

Since we categorise ourselves as ultras,

we stand on our feet
throughout the game.

We must sing, stand on our feet.

Most of us are 17 to 20 years old.

When I turn 60 or 70,

I want Ladies Curva Sud to still exist.

Let's say it together.

Football without ladies is nothing.

My dream?

It's to be an asset for society.

In Indonesia, most people
want to take part in society.

We like to do things together.

A group banner.

A hand-painted piece of cloth
worth more than gold.

You gather behind it during the game.

The wrong person can't stand there.

It needs to be protected,
by any means necessary.

If someone steals it,
the group is disbanded.

It ceases to exist.

It might sound like a game,
but it's serious.

Or at least a serious game.

Everything is made up anyway.

Nations are made up.
Economic systems are made up.

Societies are made up.

The parliaments and governments
are made up.

Presidents and ministers, bosses,
kings and queens are all made up.

Houses and streets are made up.
Cities and infrastructure, too.

But this, the rules in the stands,

at least we made them up ourselves.

A tifo is a choreographed
performance in the stands.

It's often performed
a few minutes before kick-off.

The choreography can include
big painted banners,

paper, confetti, balloons,
flags, and pyrotechnics.

The following is an example of
what it takes to make a tifo.

20 markers.

1,800 square metres of fabric.

25,000 metres of thread.

150 litres of paint.

60 rollers and brushes.

3 rolls of tape.

2,000 square metres
of space to work in.

50 people to work
2,200 voluntary hours.

If these people were
employed at 12 euros an hour,

the cost would be 30,000 euros,
including social fees.

Adding 6,000 euros for
materials and workspace.

If you choose to look at it
in purely economic terms,

the cost of a tifo
is about 36,000 euros.

But all the hours are voluntary,

and the money for materials
is donated by the supporters.

Right before and during the tifo,
it is actually really stressful.

Because everything has to work out.

A small group has to get the crowd
to do a really big thing,

and there's no room for failure.

Everybody feels it together.

We bloody did it!

The feeling you get
when you get it right...

It's such an adrenaline kick.

Sort of similar to the feeling
of beating the other gang in a fight.

It's intoxicating.

The choreography holds many meanings.

It's also a demonstration of power
to the other ultras.

To take control in the stands
and show your dominance.

In many ways, it's bigger
than what happens on the pitch.

Creating these things
is for all of us who are there.

For the kids watching so they can find
the love for the blue and white.

The energy washes down to the pitch.

It's the team and us...

...against them.

And we need to be the best.

You're not just a spectator
but part of the match.

When you're in the world of ultras
and tifo and all that stuff,

you're in 100%.

For me, anyway.

It's where I feel at home.

People ask,
"What happens to the tifo afterwards?"

"Why don't you hang it up somewhere?"

Oh, you have a spare
1,800-square-metre wall?

There's a satisfaction in throwing
it out. It's part of the process.

You do the sketch, you paint,
sow, and perform it,

and then you dump it
at the recycling centre.

- Straight in the bin.
- Job done.

It makes it more special in a way.

Knowing that you do it all
for the two minutes.

It means so much.

Those two minutes mean everything.

Then it's over, you're done.
On to the next one.

"The ball is round"
is one of my favourite expressions.

I say it a lot,
even outside of football.

Whenever things might not go your way,
but there's still hope.

First there's "before the game".

Anything can happen,
because it's all ahead of us.

But in just a few hours,
it'll be behind us.

It's not really like that
with anything else in life.

You often worry about the future,
but football is so compressed.

You get the answer right away.

If it's a big game, you lose appetite
and almost feel unreal.

Then the game happens.

During the game, anything can
still happen, because the ball is round.

And even though
we're down in the 89th minute,

we can draw in the 93rd
and score the winner in the 97th.

Then comes the final whistle.

If the ball is round in our favour,
that is.

I mean, stuff happens.
That's part of the culture.

Pitch invasions,
fighting, and stuff like that.

And people are like:

"But why don't you
just stick with tifos?"

The thing is,

ultras culture isn't there for them.

Subcultures have always
been associated with violence

as a form of opposition
to the prevailing social order.

The violence can be aesthetic, verbal,
or real, physical violence.

It’s difficult to explain to an outsider.

There is so many rules but no fun.

Then there is this bunch of idiots,
not all from the best circumstances.

Who say:
”Fuck it, we make our own rules.”

If you've been beaten up by cops,
you're not going to like cops.

If you've never dealt with the police,

you're bound to think
the police are great.

We are very critical
of the police force.

Outsiders have a hard time
understanding that.

But if you've been exposed to it,
you see it differently.

There is a reason
why we despise the police.

According to them, the fans are violent.

But the violence is being
incited from the top.

And for that, they have
their main weapon: the police.

Polish police are not there
to keep order but to provoke.

Us supporters, we don't like the police.

Because they never help,
they just destroy.

I'm not, in principle,
against the police.

Sometimes they fulfil
an important social function.

I'm 58 years old,
so I can't reason like a 13-year-old.

But I believe the police
are not used well in Italy.

This opens up another perspective:

the stadium as a testing ground
for repression.

A place to accustom society
into accepting repression.

Once society accepts
this form of repression,

it spreads into the cities.

Because the stadium
is a mirror of society.

Ultras subculture is a macho culture.

It's a culture where strength
is the central myth and symbol.

The defining, essential element.

Our brand is recognised
all over the world.

Wherever we go, people are scared of us.

We've built a really strong group
of supporters.

That's why we get respect.

When Lech Poznań comes,
everyone stands in attention.

Everything is more structured now,
more by the rules.

It's insane that a subculture has rules
and not just codes.

Today, groups all over Europe,
especially in Eastern Europe,

set off like armies at war.

They arrive in the cities in
uniform clothing, carrying banners.

They're all exactly the same.
I find it so boring.

Sure, it looks good.
It's strong, and so on.

But I don't recognise myself in it.

That's not part of me.

It's something beautiful.
You can't describe it.

You won't get it unless you feel it.

Adrenaline is something that
makes you shake, feel euphoric.

You're charged up
like Duracell batteries

or a fully charged phone.

You're so charged up,
staring at the clock.

10 a.m., 12 p.m., 2 p.m.
When do I fucking go?

At 4 p.m., you go nuts.
Know what I mean?

A week before, it starts building up.

Everyone at work talks about it,
because it's amazing.

It's like our parents waiting
for Sunday to go to church.

That's how it is for us.
It's fucking awesome.

We don't identify with politics,
quite the opposite.

We're on a warpath with politicians.

Above all, I wish the rich didn't rule.

Because the rich
don't know what poverty is.

Like that piece of shit Kaczyński
once officially said,

he had to take from us
to give to someone else.

For fuck's sake, it makes no sense.

I used to be a hot-headed guy.

I made many mistakes,
which I had to pay for.

But then I met these people.

I don't know what would
have happened to me otherwise.

I'm so proud of my friends and club,
and I hold my head up high.

THE KETTLE,
THE BEST PLACE IN THE WORLD

I've always thought
that moths are so irrational

in their obsessive fluttering to sources
of light during summer nights.

Why aren't they just awake
during daytime

if they love light so freaking much?

But when the floodlights come on
and the stadium is revealed

by a strangely bright evening sky
rather than the stadium itself,

what's the difference
between us and a moth then?

To fly over there
to bathe in the artificial light,

the aesthetically perfect lamps'
promise of action,

and in the sound of one united voice.

I want to go there, and it's irrational.
That's the whole point.

It was 25 years ago this year.

My dad first took me
to watch Manchester City.

It was a real assault on the senses.

It was a sea of smells,
and not many of them were great.

You know, it was people peeing in sinks,

it was people smoking
in the grounds, and spilt beer.

It was all this stuff
you'd never experience at home.

Just even the green grass in Manchester,
there's not much green grass.

It's a big city and it rains a lot.

So even when you do go to a park,
it's invariably a mud bath.

But there it was so bright,
and it just hits you all at once.

I'm obviously now far removed
from Manchester.

I can't go to watch my team
every week, much as I'd like to.

It'd cost me an arm and a leg to do it.
I just couldn't afford it.

It's so sanitised now,
it's so stage-managed.

And it's so deadly quiet.

Why is it so quiet?

It's almost extraordinary
in a stadium that holds 60,000.

And people will go to the game
and play on their phones and stuff.

It's just like,
no you're watching the game.

That's kind of half the reason
I started watching Town

I want that experience back.

Be part of something
that's bigger than you, I guess.

Oh, Eastbourne Town

Is wonderful

Oh, Eastbourne Town is wonderful

It's full of old people and seagulls

Oh, Eastbourne Town is wonderful

Eastbourne is essentially looked at
as a retirement home in England.

So, there are many
retirement homes in the town.

We celebrate that.

It's quite a cut off town
in terms of industry, in terms of work.

Essentially, you'll be working in
a hospital or in a retirement home.

Or in a hotel, because there's
many hotels along the seafront.

Other than that,
there's not a lot going for it.

Professional football
just can't give people the same thing.

You make a choice between it.
You want good quality football?

Fine. Go watch Premier League football.
You pay for it.

But there is a different thing entirely
from watching non-League football.

The history of the game here is nuts.

I mean, the League started
in the 1800s. Everywhere have a team.

The Premier League has become so big.

It's the most watched
sporting league in the world.

I think 2.2 billion people watch it
in 160 countries. It's a product.

I remember going when
it was a pound to go in.

What has happened in the
non-league scene that's been important

is fans owning clubs.

Racism, we say no

Oh, we say no

Homophobia, we say no

Boris Johnson, we say no

Wanting to bring
political messages into football...

They're always there. Football
has always been a political sphere.

And the idea that it isn't
is just nonsense.

It was kind of like
a tongue-in-cheek name

where there'd be away games
with like three people

screaming their heads off
with like one banner.

And it was like a funny thing
to call themselves ultras

in comparison to the European scene
where you got like 3,000 people

with huge displays and flares
and all that kind of stuff.

There's no committee, no voting or
anything, you just do what you want.

The people that show up there
on a Saturday is the organisation.

The chairmen don't get paid,
the groundsmen don't get paid.

We come and help them do
their painting and sweeping.

Football isn't just run by
the guys in the boardroom.

It's also run by the fans,
and it can be.

Because this is important.

For working class people
to go to a match,

the resale price for tickets
is sometimes 60,000 pesos.

60,000 pesos is almost
the monthly minimum wage.

Going to a match
costs your entire salary.

I don't like the family-friendly model,

with high prices, people sitting down,

no one singing, no participation.

Everybody eating popcorn.
The stadium is not the cinema.

Clubs shouldn't fall
into the hands of businessmen,

as has happened in Europe
and in the Middle East with the sheikhs.

All clubs should fight against that.

Members.

Agendas, motions, protocols.

Speaker lists, electoral committees,
boards of directors.

Activity reports and financial years.

Secretaries, adjusters,
and vote counters.

Discussions and arguments.

All votes count.

Washing coffee cups, stacking chairs,
mopping floors. Everyone helps.

Sometimes it's really boring.
Time stretches on.

Fidget spinners
and clicking ballpoint pens.

A leg shaking restlessly
under the table.

Out for some fresh air
to keep your head cool.

A free education in democracy.

The difference between
managing your association

and the powerlessness of seeing
your club lost to financial interests.

Long live associational democracy.

We sing with all our emotions,
however it may sound.

If you sing from the heart,
you give the team everything you've got.

That's the way it is.

The only things that matter are
God, family, and the team.

Only these things matter.

What can I say?
The situation for the ultras in Morocco

is unstable right now
because of the police.

They believe that
we are going to make a mess,

like during Arab Spring.

They think we are going
to riot and stir up chaos.

"What kind of group are you?
Where do you get your money?"

"How does it all work?"

"Who's your leader?
What's on your mind?"

They fear we could threaten
the country's leadership.

There is no proper healthcare
or education.

A lack of housing. Extreme poverty.

Fraud and hypocrisy. Injustice.

We have everything in this country,
except freedom.

The political order in Morocco tries
to silence free voices.

Voices of reflection and enlightenment.

Before we became ultras, we lived in
a society we could not participate in.

In every underdeveloped society,
you see young people

fighting for the right
to express themselves.

Because the state does not
help to organise our youth,

the youth organises themselves.

You stress the whole week with work.

When the weekend comes,
you need to see the team play.

Then you get to decompress,
let out your frustrations.

Just let it all out.

We do not kneel for anyone,
except God. Only Him.

Just so they know.

If you cannot speak,
the stadium will speak for you.

FREEDOM FOR ULTRAS

I was by the kiosk where you
buy beer in the stadium.

I was on the phone,
having a conversation that worried me.

When I got off the phone,
I stared into space.

My friend came and gave me a long hug,
just because he saw that I needed it.

He didn't even know
what the call was about.

And when I had no money to buy glasses
to help with my bad eyesight,

another friend from the stands
sent me the money to buy them.

I still have them to this day.

Or a message out of nowhere:

"Hey, how are you?
Long time since we talked properly."

"Everything okay with you?"

"Can I get you a beer, too?"

"Dinner at my place before the game?"

When I lived
500 kilometres from Gothenburg,

my friends collected money
for a train ticket

so I could help with
the tifo performance.

I was there for the tifo
and the first half of the game,

then I had to run
to catch the train home.

I had work the next day.

I stood at the train station

and heard my friends' chanting
flying over the city.

I hadn't heard it
from the outside before.

I know them.

Those are my friends.

Through football,
I met some of my best friends

with whom I've spent
the finest moments of my life.

So for me, it's the most
important thing in my life.

Egyptian football is over.
Ask any supporter.

They'll tell you that
Egyptian football is dead.

It's been dead since
the Port Said massacre.

Our society was
under tremendous oppression.

The poor, for example,
couldn't even afford to eat.

On top of that, anyone who dared
to speak up against the regime,

protest the living conditions,
or demand basic human rights

would get tortured, arrested
and jailed, possibly even killed.

So, when the revolution started
on January 25th,

all ultras took to the streets.

But as individuals,
not as the official group.

We were all present
as our individual selves.

The ultras groups were the revolution's
first line of defence at the time.

Because they had experience
in clashing with the police

and fighting back with the tools
the groups used to use in stadiums.

This defined the ultras' role
during the revolution

as defenders of the people
in protests and confrontations.

Personally, before the revolution,

I was not informed
about anything political in Egypt.

I took to the streets with the people,
demanding my rights and my freedom.

I saw people dying
right in front of my eyes.

My hatred for the regime was born then.

That's when I understood that one can
sacrifice oneself for a higher cause.

For the sake of others.
And that's when my life changed.

The ultras have certainly
played a big role in that.

The police were humiliated
in the streets

by the ultras during the revolution.

And the police wanted
to make the ultras pay

for the pain they caused them.

As I've told you, I had attended
all Al-Ahly matches that season.

I set my alarm to the time
I was supposed to get up.

But I did not hear my phone
at all that day.

I woke up three hours late.

I called my friends, and they said
they tried to reach me many times,

but they left without me
and were almost in Port Said.

I called up some friends
who support Al-Ahly but aren't ultras.

We agreed to watch the game at a cafe,
so I went there.

Both crowds entered,
and the match was underway.

There were skirmishes
between both crowds.

But it all seemed like regular
match-day hooliganism.

The Masry fans stormed the pitch
after the full-time whistle

and ran towards the Ahly crowd.

When the match was over,
the stadium lights went out,

which is a very strange thing to happen.

The Egyptian police made way
for the Masry crowd to pass.

Al-Ahly supporters tried to block
the attack before they made it over.

And as they tried to flee the stadium,
they were surprised to find

that all the gates were
completely sealed shut.

They couldn't escape, and there was
a lot of crowding in the tunnels.

The Masry crowd started
stabbing Al-Ahly supporters.

Even those who escaped
to the top of the stands.

They were being pushed over the edge.

Three stories up,
around 20 metres or so.

I was crying at the cafe
and couldn't stay there,

so I decided to go home
and watch the news by myself.

I rang my friends, but nobody answered.
Then I called one more friend.

The call got through,
and someone answered.

So I asked, "Where are you?"

This strangers replies,
"Who do you want?"

I told him I'm looking for my friend.

He said, "We've killed your friend".

And then he hung up.

Some were stabbed to death,
others suffocated,

many were thrown to their death.

And the Egyptian police saw it all
but did nothing to stop it.

In the end, 72 people died.

We swore defeat for the oppressor.
Freedom is coming no doubt.

We carried the banners of liberty.

They say tomorrow you will know.

You'll be washed clean
by the hands of the people.

Tonight it will all change.

They said rioting is in our blood,
how dare we demand our rights.

Oh stupid regime,
won't you understand my demands?

Freedom! Freedom!

Freedom!

The most important thing
for me is freedom.

To feel free and safe,
to have justice and rights.

Those are the most important things
for human life, I think.

It's one and the same thought,
ultras dream of freedom.

To young guys who are ultras, I say:

"Be free, be spontaneous."
That is all.

One night on the bus, my friend said,
"Away games are the best".

During every away trip,
he wished it would never end.

Night would become day,
and then night again.

And the bus would keep on rolling.

Never going home,
never saying goodbye to your friends.

Never going to sleep,
never going to work again.

The ever-lasting away day.

A paradise.