One of the biggest winners of Euro 2024 was undoubtedly the playwright James Graham. Having promised to update his smash Gareth Southgate drama Dear England following the final tournament of his subject’s tenure as England men’s team manager, Graham must have been thrilled when our boys neither crashed out nor triumphed, but rather did precisely as well as they had done in Euro 2020.
Major changes were not therefore necessary; Dear England has been tweaked a bit for its third run in three years, but not a lot. A new cast hasn’t radically changed the vibe either: as Southgate, Gwilym Lee is broadly going going for exactly the same sort of respectful impersonation as his predecessor Joseph Fiennes; likewise Ryan Whittle’s scene-stealingly funny Harry Kane is pretty much the same as Will Close’s scene-stealingly funny Harry Kane.
Clearly it’s back because it gets bums on seats rather than because Graham has astonishing new insights to share. But who cares? Graham has written deeper and more important plays than Dear England. But the secret of its success is that – unlike the actual England men’s team – it is consistently, relentlessly entertaining.
Of course there’s the worry that Rupert Goold’s pacy, widescreen production might overhype Southgate, or lionise him in luvvie-ish terms. Yes, by some metrics he’s the most successful England manager in history. But that’s not necessarily how the average England fan sees him.
As ever with England, it comes down to penalties. After a prologue that takes in Southgate’s devastating Euro ’96 miss against Germany and the mayfly England management career of Sam ‘Big Sam’ Allardyce, we’re away. Southgate gets the job and bemuses both the backroom and executive teams by concluding he needs to fix the team mentally, recruiting sports psychologist Pippa Grange (Liz White). Graham’s thesis is pretty simple. England are shit at penalties; Southgate was so traumatised by his Euro ’96 failure that his main focus as manager is addressing the team’s lack of preparedness for a shoot out, and also the psychological failings that the team’s previous penalty losses exposed. Is that the story of Southgate’s tenure? Maybe not. But it’s a great story about his tenure.
And it’s a joy! Taking a kaleidoscopic, broad-brush approach to depicting the England team themselves - who range from funny (Whittle’s Kane) to more serious (Tom Lane’s surprisingly sensitive Eric Dier) – Goold’s kinetic production conjures the mania of the country in the grip of a national tournament: stupid songs, stupid mascots, embarrassing politicians.
The show hinges on a pair of exquisitely tense shoot-out sequences: Colombia in Russia ’18 and Spain in Euro 2020. We know the outcome of both already. But they are, nonetheless, heartstopping. And it’s smart of Graham and Goold to put so much focus on them: Dear England avoids being a referendum on Southgate’s career as a whole by turning on the penalties and the team’s approach to them rather than forensically delving into that rubbish draw with Scotland.
With Southgate gone and the Thomas Tuchel era – he has a cameo here – now underway, I wonder how revivable Dear England will prove to be in the future. With different managers, different players, different tournaments, the audacious now-ness of the play will fade, and the story Graham has told us about England and penalties may feel less relevant. But it has been a hell of a lot of fun to have him tell it. A third run for Dear England is an indulgence, but it’s a well earned one.
