I remember this as a rather odd affair, very male, not particularly woman friendly. A world where blokes are blokey and great, with lovable eccentricities, and women are for ogling - here merely disguised rather than mitigated by romantic pseudo poetic posturing. Rachel Weisz is lovely, but not a real woman, very definitely a male fantasy figure. This felt rather curious, especially when compared with An Evening With Gary Lineker, in which the characters, both male and female, were much better drawn. The attention to detail in the football seemed much better in that other play too, here it seemed rather desultory - a sequence of blokes cheering when goals went in and looking glum when they didn't. To sum up, really rather drippy, almost as wet as Morrissey's mustache as he sipped coffee by the Seine in a ludicrous, introspective setup that a teenager would have been embarrassed to have come up with. Shallow, silly, mooning, wet, not connected to the real world. Check out Lineker - it's much better.
