Alan in Belfast: Shabu – a talented teen tries to pay back a debt with bluster (Queen’s Film Theatre until Thursday 13 July)

“Why are you crying?” Shabu asks his girlfriend after telling her she’s special but it’s over, he’s putting the relationship on hold as he needs to concentrate on his music and make his Mum and Granny proud.

This one short scene from Shabu sums up the central character of Shamira Raphaela’s documentary. The 14-year-old lad lives on Rotterdam’s De Peperklip estate with its distinctive curved high-rise apartment blocks. He took his Granny’s car for a spin and wrote it off while she was out of the country. He’s meant to me spending the summer earning back the €1,200 he owes her, yet his ability to stick it out selling popsicles to local children fades faster than his merchandise melts. He’s a walking disaster in the local supermarket job a family member arranges for him (though I can’t help feeling his clumsy spillage was staged for the camera).

An older adult advises him: “You have to be in control of yourself.”

Shabu is a bundle of talent, always drumming out a beat with his fingers, improvising a bass line when music is playing, trying out rap lines against different styles of track. He’s also an accident-prone naïve teenager, easily distracted, a total flibbertigibbet, a bit of a hustler, quite sensitive, at times jealous, and incredibly selfish. And despite looking like an adult, he’s only 14.

Having failed to make much of a dent in his debt, Shabu’s get out of jail free plan is to organise a block party, charge everyone €2 to get in, and entertain people with his music and some dance routines he has choreographed. The promised event is tacked on the end of the film. It’s clear that the attendance isn’t overwhelming and the takings will fall short of raising the kind of cash he requires. But being in the limelight certainly gives him a confidence boost and provides the movie with an upbeat conclusion.

All through the film we see how Shabu relies on his closest friends (like wingman Jahnoa) who stick with him, unaffected by his immaturity, yet he doesn’t reward them with the respect their sustained loyalty and admiration deserves. However, I’m being terribly hard and judgemental on a young man (now 16) who is making his way in the world with a sense of panache, self-confidence, and a musical talent that will hopefully sustain his progress.

I’d love to see a companion documentary from Stephany’s perspective that explains how she experiences her friendship with Shabu. Does his sensitive side outweigh his obvious foibles? During the final scenes, Stephany lurks somewhat lost in the background, hanging around for a hug, but second fiddle to the titular star who is getting his short-term kicks from the adoring crowd without a thought to his future. It nearly feels like a low-key finish to a sad romcom.

Shabu captures the first steps in a real life coming-of-age story. While it is very much a documentary, this could easily have been written as fiction and would sit well alongside works like The Florida Project and Rocks. Catch Shabu at Queen’s Film Theatre until Thursday 13 July.