Rewritten 'Dear England' Scores in Tackling Gareth Southgate's Rise and Fall: National Theatre Review

★★★★ | 14 July, 2024. The Euros Finals: England vs. Spain. A group of friends and coworkers huddle around my flat-screen TV, faces contorted in anguish as England loses yet again. It’s not coming home.

But as I – a mildly overwhelmed non-British onlooker – gazed around me, I noticed something: my male friends, who were usually so stoic, were feeling something. One wrapped the English flag around him like a blanket as he silently stormed off, more petulant toddler than twenty-something man; another wept openly, eyes red-rimmed; yet another, middle-aged and pint in hand, hugged his mates as he muttered "next time". Win or lose, the ill-fated English football team, with now-legendary manager Gareth Southgate at its helm, became an outlet for these normally immoveable men to express their grief, frustration, and indeed, love. 

It is this tension between masculinity and vulnerability, pride and nationalism, that is at the heart of Dear England, the National Theatre’s mega-hit returning to the Olivier stage after a successful West End run. This time, it paints a different ending. Chronicling the rise (and, in this revised version, fall) of Gareth Southgate, Dear England delves into Southgate’s ambition to not only change the team, but an entire nation, for the better. 

The company of Dear England. Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

As only a casual football viewer, I won’t attempt to review Dear England’s historical/sports accuracy (though the audience did seem to love Gunnar Cauthery’s impression of former manager Sven-Göran Eriksson, so I assume that was spot-on?). However, as a play about a man's drive to redeem himself to his sport and his country, Dear England is a gripping, moving achievement. 

When one thinks of eloquent speakers, the first thought usually isn’t ‘football player’. Writer James Graham thankfully doesn’t shove Shakespeare into Harry Kane’s mouth; his script is pared-down, humourous, and blunt, balancing an epic of near-Shakespearean proportions with the everyday speech of the modern man. Though the political satire falls short (Theresa May jabs feel tired nearly ten years on) and the racism of football culture and English nationalism is too easily written off as the fault of a few bad apples, Graham overall crafts a fast-paced, punchy narrative that deftly jumps between historical events, football championships, and the petty dramas of the locker room. 

But a sparse script relies on incredible actors to convey what words on the page do not. Here, Dear England scores again. The cast is led by Gwilym Lee, whose stuttering, brow-arching Southgate felt a bit cartoonish at first but by the second act settled into something authentic and complex. Tane Siah is a standout, playing Bukayo Saka with a painful earnestness; Josh Barrow is hilarious as the shouting, wild-eyed goalkeeper Jordan Pickford; and Ryan Whittle steals the show as Harry Kane, a man of few words (very few words). 

The company of Dear England. Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

Director Rupert Goold leads an all-stars lineup of creatives, including set designer Es Devlin, lighting designer Jon Clark, as well as co-sound designers Dan Balfour and Tom Gibbons. Together, they create a simplistic yet immersive staging that calls to mind the stylings of a TV sports channel. Balfour and Gibbons deserve particular attention for their masterful sound design that makes the expansive world of a high-octane football match tangible within the Olivier auditorium. The roar of the crowd, the thwack of the penalty kick and the zip as it soars into the goal made these gameplay moments feel viscerally alive. There we were, watching with as much focus as if the real game was occurring, gasping and flinching as the ‘ball’ landed into the ‘goal’. Through sound alone, Balfour and Gibbons transport even the most casual football viewer into the communal joy of ‘the beautiful game’.

Indeed, it is communal joy that Dear England celebrates. My male friends may have wept in anguish after that tragic 2024 Euros final, but in their grief they found community and felt the joy of being with those you care about, united in one goal. "England needs a new story," Southgate declares at the opening of the play – a story that James Graham successfully suggests is one of camaraderie, not victory. Well-reviewed plays are often those with grand speeches and intimidating verbosity, yet Dear England easily stands among them, a play in which a man stuttering "I love you" to his teammates elicited as many tears in the audience as the greatest soliloquies do.

★★★★

Dear England plays at the National's Olivier Theatre until 24 May.