A Rousing Tale of Football and Loyalty

To start with, just to avoid confusion – The Red Lion is in and of itself not a humorous play. Certain scenes were found particularly funny by the audience – perhaps partly because laughing prevents them from thinking too deeply about the situation, and partly because those scenes were meant to be funny; but the play itself has a deadly serious message.

The scenery of the changing room of ‘The Red Lion’, the local football club, is both familiar and arcane, and was a brilliant choice to convey the dramatic mood of the play itself. From the dirty club flag, the worn-down bench, and the hospital-like massage bed in the middle, to the sounds of the dripping tap in the bathroom, everything found on the stage added something of value to the experience.

_The Red Lion _can be viewed in a number of ways: you can just watch it and enjoy it; you can watch it, then think about it and still like it; or you can watch it, apply its message to everything surrounding you in this world, and love it. No matter which method you choose, I still recommend this play. Not because it is funny, not because it is about football, but simply because it has so much to say.

The Sunday league. Your local team. Your friends there, or you enemies, who took your position and because of whom you started sitting on the bench. These things mean something to a lot of people. One doesn’t need to be a Harvard researcher to claim that a large number of men had a part in their life when they dreamed of being a football star (or perhaps still dream of this); many of them have played FIFA Manager Mode as well, where – despite the title – they probably did not realize what it really takes to be a manager. But it is never too late – come along and watch it yourself what you need: you do not start off a club that would be able to win the Champion’s League next year; the board does not pay you the stratospheric salary reported about in the media; you need to develop, because you do not always want to be at the League 3; and probably you actually need to make a living. But we also have the other side of the coin: the side of the ‘old soul’ kitman (Peter Wight), who claims his support for The Red Lions, and for the game itself; he claims it proudly, unlike the manager; and he claims it constantly, unlike the so-called ‘fans’ and the board who only realize they have a club when it tops the league.

In the middle of this contrast, a potential star (Calvin Demba) rises out of nowhere to become man of the match. The manager (Daniel Mays) talks about loyalty, but wants to sell him to make some money for the club, and himself; the ‘old soul’ does not talk about loyalty but want him to be loyal, both to himself and to the club. Meanwhile the kid just wants to play the game, but does he have something to hide? Why did he choose the small-town Red Lions, when he is too good for them?

The ‘old soul’, a former player himself, talks about the good old days, when he kicked a goal in the last minute in front of his wife, who was sitting on the sidelines. When his career ceased, his life ceased too. The manager, meanwhile, mentions his family when asked, but that is it. Nothing else exists in their heart other than football; and nothing else exists on the stage other than football. But it’s not the glimmering, shiny, and lustrous game we see on the TV.

The Red Lion is a phenomenon. It is a powerful play based on a true story. And not on one, but on many.

The Red Lion is on at the National Theatre until 30th September.