So far, so aspirational. But then, kids started killing each other for their Air Jordans, and the $140 price tag doesn’t exactly explain it. The point is – and it’s a point that the film could have made sooner – these shoes were being aggressively marketed to the kids who could least afford them. The brand was monetising a street culture created by the impoverished customer base. Nike was controlling the supply of Air Jordans as carefully as De Beers controlled the supply of diamonds, artificially assigning extreme value and desirability to the shoes. Automobiles can at least be locked and made traceable with registration plates, and TVs and VCRs can be hidden away in apartments. But the whole point of Air Jordans was that they were worn out on the street with no protection whatever.
Only over the final credits do we learn that no one at Nike or Team Jordan agreed to take part in the film. This is a heartbreaking story, but the film leaves it very late to tell it.
• One Man and His Shoes is in cinemas on 23 October and on digital formats on 26 October.