The claim, within a few minutes, that we are talking future Beatles here is a hard to bear – a heresy difficult to forgive.
But what follows is enjoyable enough, even if it is a film which underlines its own limitations.
That little word “unauthorised” explains why we don’t even get to see a single second of the boys performing; why we keep seeing the same film clips time and time again; and why the boys barely speak in the film, save in news clips.
We don’t even get any footage of their X Factor performances; instead we get a woman in a sandwich shop telling us that Harry – “so normal” – used to buy his sausage rolls there.
The best documentaries absolutely have to have the kind of privileged access that this film is painfully crying out for. The fish and chip shop that they used to go to just doesn’t do it, however much the deep-fat fryer liked them.
Without anything better to offer, instead Sinitta walks us through her every last emotion at their X-Factor experience, while a fruity American voice-over tells us that Holmes Chapel is a sleepy little village in middle England. Oh really?
But such niggles aside, the film certainly conveys a sense of the excitement the boys have generated – even if it is far from being the last word on their first steps.
As for mentioning them in the same breath as The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, well, chunter, chunter, chunter…