I was very keen to see I, Superbiker, out of sheer curiosity. To make a documentary film around British Superbikes is intriguing enough, but to secure screenings at dozens of cinemas nationwide – all on the evening of Monday 14th March 2011 – is hugely impressive.

So I popped along to my local screening, not really knowing what to expect – either in terms of the film, or the turnout.

Unlike some of the screenings with a celebrity guest, it certainly wasn’t sold out. But there was a bit of a queue forming to get in when I arrived, and there was a decent crowd when the lights went out. I assume that it’s been a commercially successful endeavour, and I’m glad about that.

The film follows Tommy Hill, Josh Brookes, James Ellison and Gary Mason throughout the 2010 British Superbikes season. It paints them as modern day gladiators, which is obviously a bit daft – as is the opening sequence, complete with tacky Roman lettering and cheap graphic effects.

It gets better from there though, and belts along at quite a pace. It has to, to fit in highlights from every race, interviews, behind the scenes footage, and segments following the riders at home between meetings.

Gary Mason and James Ellison come across especially well. They’re memorably honest about money, and where they are in their careers: in Mason’s case, being paid only for results; in Ellison’s, doing what he loves, albeit for not a lot of money.

There’s an interesting contribution from James Whitham on the same subject – at the controls of a light aircraft, naturally – suggesting that teams have become the most important aspect, rather than riders.

The pain and frustration that Ellison went through after his huge accident is clear to see: the fear that his career could be slipping away, and the resulting pressure he put on himself deliver results. His win at the final meeting is a satisfying conclusion to his story.

The same can’t be said about Mason, who slowly fades into the background of the film as the final stages of the season unfold.

The impression of Tommy Hill is a little one-dimensional: he’s either winning or wanting to win, then he doesn’t win. There is nothing about his return to British Superbikes after a fairly torrid time in World Superbikes, which might have added some context to his campaign.

Josh Brookes, meanwhile, is just plain anonymous. Presumably because Britain isn’t his home, there are no contributions from other people in his world, and little is seen of his life away from the track.

So it isn’t quite a film about the four riders, due to the restriction to the 2010 season. But neither is it a film about the 2010 season, most obviously because Ryuichi Kiyonari – the eventual champion – is largely glossed over.

That’s presumably because he isn’t hugely expressive in English, but that seems like a missed opportunity. We don’t really know Kiyonari very well – thanks to the language barrier – but judicious use of a translator could have provided some genuinely new insight into his character. He would, perhaps, have been a more deserving subject of the film. As would Michael Rutter, if you ask me.

But it’s mainly about Hill towards the end, so him losing the championship is the film’s abrupt conclusion, which isn’t terribly satisfying.

Enough about what the film isn’t, though. There’s no question that it’s absolutely stuffed to the gills: the race edits work well, despite their focus on the four riders; and there’s some good stuff around those edits. As a result the film doesn’t fail to engage.

As a piece of motorsport entertainment, it’s a decent achievement. But with more context, and slightly more probing interviews, it could have been more than that.