by Kristen DiLemnoDirected by Benjamin and Gabe Turner, In the Hands of the Gods follows five free-styling footballers trekking from England to Argentina to meet their hero, Diego Maradona. Without any money for food, lodgings or travel, they perform and hustle their way south from New York.
The five friends – Sami, Mikey, Jeremy, Danny and Paul – have a touching dynamic that generally withstands seeing one other non-stop for four weeks. Bickering tends to take a backseat to pride in each other’s skills, and their backgrounds are rough enough to encourage sticking together. Sami takes a break to check in with his parole officer, while Mikey gets choked up over the untimely deaths of his two best friends. None come from particularly privileged backgrounds, and all reveal that football gave them something to work toward.
The people they encounter in Mexico and Central America construct a surprisingly poignant backdrop for In the Hands of the Gods. Workers in small towns donate generously to the boys’ passionate cause, and an impoverished family takes in Sami and Paul for a night. The Turners manage to capture scattered moments of humour during the trip. Sami promises a kiss to any girl who can get the football away from Paul, and an astonished Mikey informs his mum that three Englands could fit in Texas alone – “and that’s only one of the 52 states”. But the bonding sometimes slips into gooey sentimentality, particularly when Jeremy pleads with his best pals to embrace Jesus. It’s sweet that the friends have each other’s backs, but proselytising and enjoining one another to “follow that dream” border on family-film frippery.
Montage sequences of the guys free-styling offer a much-needed reprieve from the MTV-style melodrama. Their obvious talent and camaraderie when busking make the misery of sleeping in cars and hustling deals at restaurants almost seem worth it. The soul of In the Hands of the Gods lies in the unity of the group. When it breaks up in Mexico – they only earn enough cash for two of the five to fly from Guatemala to Argentina – the factions have to find their way to Maradona separately. Even with the unfortunate split, In the Hands of the Gods captures a lively enough journey across the Americas. The fantastic free-styling and emotional train wrecks make for an engaging documentary.
