Theatre and dinner: Dear England and small plates at Shack Fuyu Soho

Dear England, Prince Edward Theatre, Soho

It’s a rare thing for a straight play to have a long run in a large venue in London’s theatre land. In fact there hasn’t been a drama at the Prince Edward Theatre since the Second World War. Sixty percent of of London theatre audiences are tourists and it’s primarily musicals that finance the sector.

Invited to see the play Dear England, I took my brother who is a keen amateur actor and professional sports photographer. The play centres around the England football team as led by Gareth Southgate. You don’t have to be an expert in football to enjoy it however. Football is such a part of our lives in the UK, we are all familiar with the big characters. Every so often I’d whisper to my brother ‘Is that player really like that?’ (particularly the hilarious Makem goalkeeper Jordan Pickford, delivering a manically energetic performance by Josh Barrow) and he’d nod, laughing with recognition.

The staging, by Es Devlin, was minimalist and pared down, which isn’t something I usually like. I’m more of a maximalist in terms of theatre design. But this was brilliantly done: a huge overhead halo echoing the Wembley arch. Screens were cleverly used to recall historic moments such as England winning the World Cup in 1966, and to mimic footballers pre-match tiktoks. The music is contemporary, with football songs like ‘Vindaloo’ and hits such as ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’.

Gareth Southgate as newly hired manager devised a story in three acts for his new young squad. He told them to train not for the next tournament, nor for the next World Cup, but the Qatar World Cup six years hence. He hired an Australian female psychologist Pippa Grange to boost team spirit, to make them open up to each other. This had predictably comic results but was also very effective. She encouraged them to get past the national block about penalties. Of course Gareth Southgate, and I remember it his critical miss in 1996 so well, is the figurehead of missed penalties. You saw how it diminished and traumatised him, yet also how he was exactly the right person to break the curse.

Joseph Fiennes was transformational as Gareth Southgate. He got his light soft Crawley accent, his nervous demeanour, his tics. Will Close as captain Harry Kane played him as inarticulate and comedic in the first half, but in the second half, as sorry and tearful. I was in tears much of the second half.

The responsibility of the dreaded penalties, England’s jinx, on these young men is heart-rending. The play cleverly picked up on the link between the figurehead responsibilities of monarchy and our footballing representatives. ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’.

England’s self-esteem is so dependent on our football success. It is our modern proxy for wars: how young men can prove themselves.

The director made the onstage penalties as nail-biting as those in real life; one of his techniques was to not have a ball on stage. At the end of one international match when England finally succeeded, the woman sat in front of me couldn’t stop herself from applauding and cheering as if she were at an actual football match. I realised in the interval that this was Emma Freud. Her husband Richard Curtis dryly remarked: ‘She only likes the penalties’. (Also in the audience was director Trevor Nunn. Is that a wig he wears? His hair is unrealistically lush for his age).

The actors, virtually all male, except for the psychologist and women’s footballing champ Alex Scott, were physically very fit. I wondered if they had to train and work out to play these athletes. The only disappointment was the actor who played Theresa May. She was completely wrong for it and I think they should have invested in another actor to play that part, rather than using the same person that played (very well) Alex Scott.

Sven Goran Eriksson and Fabio Capello, former England managers featured. A slick grey-haired Gary Lineker was a regular strolling commentator on the play, just as he is in real life. I remember going to see a play in the 1990’s called ‘An evening with Gary Lineker’. The reviews hyped it up. But the truth was that it wasn’t very funny or very good.

I was relieved that the play didn’t go too heavy on the England is going down-the-drain lefty remainer politics. There were mentions on racism on the pitch, those poor boys spilling their guts on the field for England and getting monkey noises as a response, but it was deftly handled. When actor Denzel Baidoo playing Bukayo Saka spoke at the front of the stage directly to the audience, tears in his eyes, about his hurt at the criticism of missing a penalty, I also cried.

At the end, without the finale of success for which one hoped, England only made the semis at the Qatar World Cup, we all sang along to ‘Sweet Caroline’. This play had the joy and spirit of a musical.

It’s only on till January 13th. Try to get in before it shuts. Dear England, Prince Edward Theatre, London.

The pre-theatre dinner at Shack-Fuyu, Old Compton Street

A few doors along from the Prince Edward Theatre on Old Compton Street is Shack-Fuyu Soho. They don’t appear to have a proper website, being part of the Bone Daddies operation, so, confused I ended booking the wrong place. Fortunately they could fit me in.

My brother ordered the pre-theatre menu, two savoury courses for £25. I had a couple of small plates: aubergine with miso sauce and bubu arare (the latter turns out to be little crunchy rice pops, a Korean speciality) and Brussels sprouts cooked in ponzu. We also had a couple of warm sake flasks at approximately ten quid each. (I know you aren’t really supposed to have warm sake but I was cold).

Our dishes had loads of flavour. My brother was happy with his three Korean fried wings with sour spicy sauce and a generous plate of beef slices with yuzu koshi mayo.

While I really enjoyed my dishes, I felt that the pricing was unfair. The quantity of Aubergine was small (four medium slices). Vegetables don’t cost the same as beef and chicken, and yet the dishes cost virtually the same. I shared the rice that came with my brother’s menu.

So in future I’d also get the pre-theatre menu, but the vegetarian options were few.

I rarely go into town these days, but Soho consists of now almost entirely Asian eateries (that’s not a problem for me, as I mostly eat Asian when I eat out). But is this because of tourists? Who actually likes bubble tea? In Italy I noticed every town had a ton of poké restaurants. I asked a local why Italians were so keen on poké and they explained that it was for students not locals.