…And the crowd goes wild! James Graham’s crowd pleaser Dear England comes to The National Theatre in a move that reaffirms the show’s place as patriotic currency.
This show has all the hallmarks of mass appeal and should. Its subject matter—the national game—not only taps into the obsession of over 55 million people in the UK, but also a story about group identity crisis.
While it’s expected that this crisis relates to the country’s Brexit shenanigans and flip-flopping of leadership during the tenure of manager Gareth Southgate, flawlessly played by Gwilym Lee, this is a minor story compared to that of how a ‘team’ is made.
This is a winning choice, as it provides a clear and undeniable through-line—Southgate and psychologist Pippa, played convincingly by Liz White, introduce the team to the benefits of self-reflection and solidarity with hilarious moments of culture-clash between the new management and baby boomers of the club.
On the side’s journey to ‘Victory’, an Achilles heel is cannily introduced—‘penalties’—and headway is finally made as characters picked from the corners of English football reveal their likability and weaknesses as one national team. The focus on the regionality of the boys in the squad opens up ample opportunity for national pride and relatability—as jettisoned by the fact that these are recognisable, celebrity sportsmen. It is hard to pick standout performances as all are delivered with revelling pleasure in the idiosyncrasies and foibles of British men. This brand of humour shows itself as one of Graham's strong suits.
As someone who’s never really ‘got’ the appeal of football, it’s testament to the framing of these characters as vulnerable young men from ordinary backgrounds that I was able to emotionally invest in their hopes and challenges. Exuberant moments of characterisation are found in their signature pitch gestures and verbal ticks—the audience’s fondness for Harry Kane’s strident mumbling, as expertly played by Ryan Whittle, was palpable. As was the recognition of signature knee-sliding and chest beating from players such as Sancho, portrayed with buoyant energy by Jordan Ford Silver.
And Es Devlin’s design really evokes more of this present nostalgia for the national talent living their ups and downs in the glare of cameras. The team members' shirts are hung on one side of doors / cubicles that alternate between locker-room stalls and the England boardroom. Archive footage is also used to beautiful, emotive effect when the players reflect on their role as custodians of a heritage—the introduction of their player numbers prods at the heartstrings as they wistfully announce them one by one.
All action takes place within the giant ‘O’ of two LED circles above and below the Olivier’s stage, further channelling the show’s reference to arenas and epic storytelling. This is where James Graham has found a gem of a premise: the fact that Gareth Southgate’s custodianship of England was infused with the ambition to change the national story and the aspiration of a self-fulfilling prophesy.
Between hope, failure, community and blasts of "Sweet Caroline", Dear England is a show that will have British audiences dancing in the stands with celebration of a nation that, while often wrong-footing itself, is steadfast in its love of the game.