After the Cup posterThe documentary After The Cup begins with a huge victory, the kind that is usually saved for the end of a sports film: the professional soccer team B'nei Sakhnin ("Sons of Sakhnin") has just won the Israeli cup, and everyone is celebrating; it's a storybook underdog triumph pulled off by the poorest team in Israel's premier league, and one expects the film to backtrack and tell the tale of how the team got there.

Instead we get a different story, though one that's no less compelling—an account of the year that follows that championship season. Filmmakers Alexander and Christopher Browne have fashioned an all-access pass into the B'nei Sakhnin—truly a united-nations of a soccer club, fielding Arab, Jewish, and foreign-born players, owned by an Arab (Mazen Ghanayem) and coached by a Jew (Eyal Lachman)—as it tries to live up to its newly-gained status.

The team is, on one level, an honest-to-goodness social experiment—a living example of Jews and Arabs not only coexisting but working together as a unit, for a common goal that is sacred to all of them and to their legions of fans. This aspect of its identity is a heavy burden that becomes even heavier after the championship—with national media and politicians like Shimon Peres trying to use Abbas Suan: trains the B'nei Sakhnin soccer teamit to further their own theses and agendas for Israel.

As the film shows, the players carry this burden like a huge, cumbersome piece of baggage. "Everyone expects the team to be a bridge," says Lachman, worrying that the squad will buckle under the weight of so much scrutiny. And it nearly does: the new season, far from being another dream year, quickly threatens to become a nightmare. Unable to maintain its position at the top, B'nei Sakhnin begins to slide down the rankings with each loss, and soon faces the prospect of being stripped of its spot in the Premier league altogether (as the two bottom teams do each year). Rifts begin to appear between the coach, the players, and the owner, who resorts to desperate measures to halt the decline--but to no avail. Even the fans start to lose patience, with near-riots ensuing at some of the games. Things come to a head as the whole season winds up turning on the very last game-a make-or-break ending that the film could not have improved upon even if it had been scripted.

Among the players, the exceptionally skilled and charismatic Abbas Suan receives the most screen time; and although the film would probably have benefited from more perspective from the other players, one can understand why Suan is singled out: he is not only the team captain and star but also the only player granted a prestigious spot on the Israeli National team. As one commentator puts it, "Abbas Suan represents the hopes and dreams of the [Israeli] Arab community."

As can be expected, there are those who cannot stand the idea of an Arab star in Israeli soccer, or of a team like B'nei Sakhnin altogether. Chief among them are devotees of the club Beitar Jerusalem, who picket the games shouting shamefully bigoted anti-Islamic slogans and calling the Sakhnin captain a "terrorist for life." Similar sentiments are expressed, albeit more politely, by some in the media. The viewer is left to wonder whether B'nei Sakhnin serves more as an instrument of unity or as a scapegoat for those who want to further polarize Jews and Arabs.

"There is no religion; there are no Arabs, no Jews and there are no foreigners; we are one family all the way," Suan proclaims early on, right after the team has won the national cup. And there can be little doubt he truly feels it in that euphoric fairy-tale moment. But the film serves in part as a bleak reminder that, in the real world, Suan's statement cannot be further from the truth.

After The Cup showcases the Brown brothers' impressive narrative skills, as well as their ability to continually (though unobtrusively) remind us of the story's shifting stakes. They are aided by Patrick Gambuti, whose spectacular editing keeps the edge-of-your-seat pace going, and cinematographer Eitan Riklis, who punctuates the story with some dazzling shots of the rural landscape of Sakhnin and the other towns and cities where the team travels. Those looking for a lot of pure on-the-grass soccer action will probably come away disappointed; but After The Cup offers much insight into Israeli culture, whether or not you are a sports enthusiast.

Omid Arabian is film editor at the Levantine Review. After The Cup: Sons of Sakhnin United releases in New York on May 21st and in Los Angeles on May 28th.