Dear England shoots and doesn’t quite score

This nearly three-hour play about soccer, or rather, football (and toxic masculinity) was surprisingly engaging. It moved quickly, with bright lights and lively, nationalistic music. In the first act, Gareth Southgate (played by Gwilym Lee) tried too hard to convince the audience to care about a ragtag team of English football players attempting to bring glory back to their country in only four years. But with the threat of the World Cup in Qatar looming, this team seemingly just needed to sing and dance its cares away. The musical second act moved quickly, helped along by a literal ticking – and plot-relevant – clock. For non-Brits, some jokes may fall flat. (Laugh with everyone else at the Brexit subplot.) The rapid wig changes get a little sloppy, and the cast suddenly sprinting through the aisles is jarring. Still, Dear England was fun – but missed the mark of delivering a tale of triumph over toxic masculinity. If you want a serious examination of what it truly means to be a man, this isn’t the show for you. But if all you want is to cheer on some underdogs, tackle this one.
By Mya Copeland

Dear England tells the compelling true story of Gareth Southgate, a soccer star-turned coach whose unconventional leadership style turned the nation’s losing team into a winning one. As Southgate, Gwilym Lee poignantly captures the essence of soccer as a complex social construct. Sport can unify people from diverse backgrounds and walks of life – or bring out toxic masculinity, unchecked rage and blind nationalistic obsession with a team’s success. During a politically volatile time in the United Kingdom amid its exit from the European Union, Southgate promotes compassion and positivity as he guides players who feel that England’s self-esteem rests on their young shoulders. As nations grapple with their legacies independent of sports, Dear England is a love letter to both the beautiful game and to enduring hope.
By Simone Garber

Dear England bridges a complex, emotional narrative with a comedic critique of English nationalism. Written by James Graham (Best of Enemies and Tammy Faye), the play chronicles the trials and tribulations of the national soccer team under manager Gareth Southgate (Gwilym Lee). His struggles and triumphs take center stage as he grapples with his shortcomings at the 1996 European Football Championship and guides the national team to a fourth-place finish at the 2018 World Cup. With the help of sports psychologist Pippa Grange (Liz White), he transforms the players by prioritizing mental wellbeing and interpersonal relationships and changing the culture of England’s most-watched sport. With vulnerability and humor, Lee masterfully conveys fatherly concern for the athletes and delivers lines with touching vulnerability and comedic exasperation. Ryan Whittle as team captain Harry Kane and Gamba Cole as Raheem Sterling, whose experiences with racism on the national team elevate the play’s social critique, also give dynamic performances in a play that focus on overcoming self-doubt. Although the first act occasionally drags during conversations between Southgate and Grange, the play powerfully examines national identity.
By Sydney Gaw

This play’s revamped return to the stage delivers a (mostly) compelling recount of the journey of the soccer team that broke, and then healed, so many Brits’ hearts. Gwilym Lee excels as Gareth Southgate, the manager who tries to redefine masculinity and rebuild the team’s camaraderie between 2016 and 2024. The first half, bogged down by monotonous dialogue, is saved only by the Olivier Theatre’s unique drum revolve – three spinning rings on the circular stage that make scene changes more engaging than the acting itself. Jokes elicit only scattered laughs, as niche references to England’s pitiful football history leave some audience members feeling on the outside of an inside joke. Yet, the action-packed second half shines. As the team bounces back from so-close-you-can-taste-it losses, competition scenes score big. The stage transforms into an immersive stadium with charismatic announcers, ticking clocks and swishing goal sounds, and the players’ acting takes a creative twist with convincing slow-motion celebrations. In the play’s finale, the triumph is not England’s success on the field but rather Southgate’s lasting impact.
By Laura Horne

This all-too-real drama about England’s soccer team feels like a masterclass in what it means to try, then fail…and then fail again. Many times. The nearly three-hour show creatively fictionalizes the Brits’ seemingly unbreakable losing streak on the world stage. It debuted at the National Theatre two years ago, but the 2025 run features a new ending to account for yet another heartbreaking loss at the European final last July.
Although British actor Gwilym Lee (who plays Gareth Southgate) helps the audience feel pain along with the team, the technical crew members are the real stars. Audio engineers punctuate turning points with dramatic orchestral stings during a locker room pep talk and shake the audience awake with a boisterous instrumental montage as players travel to Qatar (where they, again, lose the game). Carefully placed sounds also highlight characters the audience rarely hears from – because you can’t miss a gaudy version of former prime minister Liz Truss. While set pieces lack excitement and costumes are just as ordinary, director Rupert Goold cleverly uses the Olivier’s intimately curved house and revolving stages to keep viewers on their toes – even if they know nothing about penalty kicks.
By Brandon Kondritz

“A three-hour play about soccer? Snore.” Non-sports fans might mutter words along these lines before entering the National Theatre, yet minutes into the show, they would most likely feel hooked. Dear England, the story based on Gareth Southgate’s time as a coach for the English national team, shows real clips of games that immerse the audience into the soccer world, with actors even running on and off of stage, though without the use of a ball. The play touches on serious topics such as men’s mental health and women’s place in sports. But it also injects humor, charming viewers with British references to Harry Potter and sarcastic jokes about being beheaded by fans. The updated version of the show rewrites Southgate’s ending after the 2024 European Football Championship, proving there is no real beginning or ending to a story.
By Marley Smith

Will you be the lucky one in Six?

Six is the number of wives of the notorious King Henry VIII – and a fair rating for this above-average retelling of royal tragedy. Playing out more like a concert than a West End sensation, the show leans, disappointingly, into stereotypes of female competition. Charismatic performances and analytical writing, however, turn these women’s tales of misfortune into a triumph of social commentary. Despite the script’s countless references to the cold-blooded king, his existence worked more as the story’s foundation rather than the subject. Expect to be wowed by the extensive vocal ranges, styles and talents of the “queens,” from Catherine of Aragon through Catherine of Parr. The musical’s plot twist (no spoilers) was underwhelming, yet fulfilling in its principle. More than glitzy gowns, ravishing riffs and endless comedic moments, the wives win in this empowering woman-centered performance. Giving voice to the beheaded, life to the dead and support to those who survived marriage with King Henry VIII, the musical rewrites history in a satisfying and avenging way.
By Sydney Johnson

High-energy and glitter-filled fun comes from Six, a musical about the half dozen wives of Henry VIII reimagined as pop stars. In this show by Oxford students Lucy Moss and Toby Marlow, Anne Boleyn’s character emerges as the comedic standout, often drawing laughs by cutting through serious moments with lines such as, “Oh, yeah, well, I got beheaded!” The fast pace, flashy visuals and concert-style setup seem aimed at younger audiences. Despite the infectious energy, the script can feel cringeworthy, leaning heavily on millennial humor and awkward one-liners like, “I’m the queen of the castle, and you’re just a dirty rascal!” The structure – each queen competes for sympathy from the audience – adds a clever twist, but the show stumbles with a sudden shift into a preachy “girl power” message. The moment when Queen No. 6, Catherine Parr, halts the competition to promote unity and self-worth feels heavy-handed, akin to a children’s show message about friendship. Still, the musical dazzles with sharp choreography, strong vocal performances and eye-catching costumes. Watch for the unique concept and bold execution, but be prepared for some cheesy, over-the-top moments.
By Dallas Thurman

The cheeky musical Six, a feeble homage to Henry VIII’s wives, gears its feminist message toward Generation Z. In just 80 minutes, the ill-fated queens – “divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived” – lyrically compete to determine who endured the worst marriage. But this crash course in English royalty is not a period drama. The empowering musical draws from contemporary stars like Beyoncé and Ariana Grande to stage a concert-like experience featuring everything that irks adults: strobe lights, bedazzled wardrobes, iPhones – the whole six yards. But even pop culture can ostracize the youngest viewers. R-rated jokes about genitals and G-strings force theaters to caution parents against bringing children under 10 years old. So, who’s left to inspire? Those born squarely between Millennials and Generation Alpha are the show’s best bet. Just as Henry VIII did not fret about age gaps, neither does Six.
By Maiya Wahl