Dear England – Review – Leeds Grand Theatre

By Steve Crabtree, November 2025

I’m a football supporter. The game is – or at least used to be – a passion. Before the modern era of endless noise, pantomime pundits and fanalysts, football felt like a simple, good and shared obsession. And I’m grouped in with millions of others who’ve lived and breathed it. My love of theatre runs pretty deep too, so when those worlds collided, I made sure I was at Leeds Grand Theatre for opening night of Dear England.

As my friend and I wandered into the Grand, it was certain that this wasn’t the usual audience for a touring production. More jeans and jackets than smart coats and scarves. You could easily picture some of them leaning on a pub bar on a Sunday afternoon, pint in hand, dissecting the game with absolute authority between mouthfuls of crisps. I say that with affection – it was nice to see this crowd here. There was a definite ‘here for the football’ vibe in the theatre, and it gave the night a different kind of warmth.

The programme semi-resembled a matchday programme, and a few kids had turned up in their favourite team colours. But this wasn’t going to be some laddish parody of football life. Instead, it turned out to be a surprisingly emotional, thoughtful look at Gareth Southgate’s time as England manager – one that made us laugh, sing, and go quiet in all the right places.

“Regret, resilience and redemption”

The play opens with Southgate reliving his defining moment. That missed penalty against Germany in Euro ’96. The one that saw England tumble out of a tournament the whole country thought was theirs. I remember watching it live, and while I don’t recall much hatred aimed at him at the time, jokes did come thick and fast. Dear England shows that for Southgate, that miss never went away, and it had lived on his shoulders ever since. Seeing that realisation on stage instantly shifted the tone from football nostalgia to something deeper: Regret, resilience and redemption.

We’re then with Southgate as he’s appointed caretaker England manager after Sam Allardyce’s brief spell. The changing room scene with Greg Clarke and Greg Dyke is played for laughs, but beneath the humour you sense his quiet sadness.

They don’t see him as the long-term answer – just the safe pair of hands to fill a gap. And you can sense that hurts…that he’s never been the main man who got the credit he deserved. But as the story unfolds, we see the determination that made Southgate who he is. He’s not there for a quick fix; he’s building something lasting, from the inside out. And no one is going to change that.

“Pitch-perfect casting”

Gareth Southgate is played by David Sturzaker, and what a job he does. He’s got the look, the voice, the posture, the grin – even the trademark chin rub, and he points like him too. You genuinely feel like you’re watching the real man. What Michael Sheen is to Clough or Frost, Sturzaker is to Southgate: layered, believable, and absolutely spot-on. It’s pitch-perfect casting.

Sam Womack brings a warm and quiet power as Pippa Grange, the psychologist who helped Southgate reshape England’s mindset. Their exchanges are some of the play’s most thoughtful moments – less about football, more about leadership and vulnerability. It’s here that you really sense what Dear England is getting at: how emotion, openness and belief changed the way a nation saw its team.

The rest of the cast are brilliant too, with many taking on multiple roles. Ian Kirkby is a particular enjoyment: switching between Thomas Tuchel, Sven-Göran Eriksson and a wonderfully dry Gary Lineker, who pops up to ‘present’ key moments as the story moves through major tournaments. Courtney George also deserves mention, delivering a smart, charismatic Alex Scott and a very funny Theresa May.

Through it all, we relive the highs and lows, the tournaments that promised so much, the heartbreaks that followed, and the flickers of hope that kept us believing. The writing is clever and emotional; tackling racism, exclusion and poverty without ever feeling heavy-handed. You find yourself pulled right in, almost forgetting this isn’t real footage from the dugout.

“Hard not to feel emotional”

The set design is simple but smart – built around light, screens and a tilted stage. Wheel-on lockers add movement and help distinguish players, though there’s never any doubt who Harry Kane is. A constant white light marks the penalty spot, glowing throughout as a reminder of Southgate’s past, and England’s own demon. It ties everything together beautifully – from personal redemption to the team finally conquering their penalty shootout curse.

By the end, it’s hard not to feel emotional. Dear England made me see Southgate in a new light. I’ve always respected him, but this made me appreciate the man as much as the manager. We sang along to ‘Sweet Caroline’, ‘Vindaloo’ blared, and ‘World in Motion’ got the crowd smiling. It was a play that really hit the back of the net.

James Graham’s script is exceptional – part history, part therapy session for football fans. It was great to see a theatre full of people who might not usually go, totally absorbed by what they were watching. For one night, the fans of the pub became the fans of the play.

Dear England continues its run at Leeds Grand Theatre until Saturday 8th November.
Images: Marc Brenner

Steve Crabtree( Writer )

Give Steve music, give him food, give him theatre, tech or travel… and he’s a happy man. He’s been writing professionally since 2003, turning to journalism in 2017 when it offered him the chance to enjoy a lot of his existing passions, and learn some new ones at the same time. Steve can be found spending many of his summer nights watching bands at The Piece Hall in his hometown of Halifax, or enjoying a bite to eat and a drink with his wife anywhere in Yorkshire at any time of year. Random fact: He does the best impression of Zippy and George from Rainbow that anyone has ever heard.

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