Oh the game! The beautiful, beautiful game! Of course, we’re talking about football–and not that steroid fueled thick necked yawnfest the NFL–but rather the most popular sport the world over, the one true love of any self-respecting byrd and the joy of every youth on the street. I know we’ve promised you more coverage of the leagues, but just getting boys away from the pubs long enough to scribble or pound the keys has been more of a hassle than we anticipated. The pull of lager, whiskey and cider is too great!

Hopefully you’ve been keeping tabs on neck and neck horse race that BPL has turned into, with Arsenal and Man U scraping and clawing over each other for the glory, every point being worth more than its weight in gold. Meanwhile, amongst the dregs, Fulham struggles to stay clear of regulation–turning it on in the last minute this week to clear three, keeping the dream alive. Then there is the African Cup, with the seemingly unstoppable Cote-d’Ivoire’s thrashing of Guinea and Ghana’s startling ten man upset of African powerhouse Nigeria–will they meet in the final? And finally, I cry myself to sleep over the nightmare that my beloved FC Barcelona’s season has become, so much promise coming in, only to spend most of the year sniffing around Real Madrid’s refuse. Speaking of which, me and some of the geezer’s hit up a viewing of the rather brilliant Zidane, Un Portrait Du 21e Siècle, and I can’t recommend it enough…

One part documentary, one part concept art, Zidane takes roughly 18 cameras to provide a close up perspective of a master of the game as he glides at times with great elegance, and at others with the same sort of brute force the highlighted the unfortunate end to his brilliant career. The film consists of Zidane’s every action throughout the length of a Real Madrid match against Villareal, filmed on April 23rd, 2005. Every possible angle explored, the passion as well as frustration comes dripping off the celluloid like the sweat rippling down his face.

By alternating the sound from the thunderous, pounding, chanting and taunting waves that is the crowd to just the isolated sound of Zidane breathing and spitting–then to various mixes of the two, the directors, Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno, generate moments where I felt as though I was there on the pitch with him, masterfully reading every situation, manipulating every pass, every movement towards the glory that is the ball in the back of the net. Alternatively, there were moments where I felt as though I was placed amidst the Ultras, pounding the drums, clapping and chanting rhythmicly–hoping to will the hero onto glory. Don’t let the arty air of the film dissuade you young hooligan–this film is the real deal. A true work of passion that matches beauty that is this game we love so much…