Even if you wouldn’t recognise an England footballer on the high street, you might recall the heady summers of 2018, 2021 and 2022 - when fans dared to dream that football was at last 'coming home'. 

Written as the ink was still drying on the match reports, James Graham’s ultra-contemporary Dear England explores the glory, suffering and solidarity of young men charged with placating an underachieving, footy-mad nation.

It’s 2016, and newly appointed England manager Gareth Southgate is haunted by his match-losing penalty miss at the 1996 European Championships. Perfectly captured by David Sturzaker, Gareth’s vulnerability and drive for redemption bubbles under a surface of gawky mannerisms, self-depreciation and Dad jokes. His chief interlocutor is team psychologist Pippa Grange - an understated and convincing turn by Samantha Womack - while anti-touchy-feely team coach Mike and blustering, jingoistic FA Chairman Greg Clarke represent the skeptical status quo. 

Meeting England’s players drew huge laughs, courtesy of Jordan Pickford’s 'wildman' schtick, Harry Macguire thinking aloud, and Harry Kane’s banal patter. From there we see them develop, as characters and young men, as Gareth and Pippa painstakingly build a sense of empowerment and togetherness - encouraging them to face down the nostalgic demons, and write their own story in the England football pantheon.

For those unfamiliar, the play rattles through a potted history of England's ups and (mostly) downs, as the ghosts of ex-managers (Sven! Taylor! Capello! Big Sam!) appear fleetingly in pitch-perfect caricatures. The public’s love/hate of 'Eng-er-land!' is voiced by the ensemble cast’s rabble of butchers, influencers, vicars and newlyweds, and soundtracked by football anthems from Vindaloo to Sweet Caroline. The whistle-stop pacing means none of this feels too ‘explainy’, and there are enough jokes and knowing moments to keep seasoned fans onboard.

A wrap-around screen and halo of light above manage the frequent tonal shifts, transforming from a stadium, to a scoreboard, to a rotoscope of football memories. The squad’s training and in-match scenes are impressionistic, but Gary Linekar wanders on to keep us informed. The culminating penalty shootouts in World Cup 2018 and Euro 2020 evoke genuine tension - as each player approaches the ball, we feel the pressure these young men are under, the heaviness of the head that wears the crown.

Occasionally, the impressive cramming-in of events is detrimental. Despite a standout moment from Ashley Byam as Raheem Stirling, the team’s stand against racism directed at Bukayo Saka, Jadon Sancho and Marcus Rashford feels worthy of deeper exploration. Perhaps though, as agonised over in Gareth’s monologue (based on his real-life letter to the nation from which the show takes its title), this maelstrom is part of our national condition to address.

Most of all this production shows us how, underneath the shirt, privilege and talent, England’s footballers are in fact just like anyone else on the high street - flawed, vulnerable and human. If you’re interested in how we should treat them - and by extension how we should care for each other - then Dear England is a fun, vital, joyous way to find out.

Four Stars

Dear England was reviewed on Tuesday 10 March by Jack Crowe at Birmingham Hippodrome, where it shows until Saturday 14 March