Latest news with #OldEtonians
Daily Record
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Record
Netflix 'beautiful' period drama 'as good as The Crown'
The English Game is a period drama that shows viewers how football was born as we know it today The period drama set in the 1870s, 'The English Game', delves into the intriguing origins of what is now Britain's most beloved sport. Premiered in 2020, the miniseries throws a spotlight on the genesis of football in Britain, with an emphasis on the era's class stratification. Both aficionados of historical drama and football have commended the show for its depiction of the prevailing class order and its heartfelt portrayal of the fervour surrounding the burgeoning sport. One enthusiast expressed their enjoyment on Rotten Tomatoes, saying: "Greatly enjoyed the story, characters, setting, drama, and resolutions. Beautifully crafted." Another added: "Absolutely superb. The best series I've watched in a while. Captivating and enthralling.", reports Surrey Live. Set during the nascent stages of the game, football is presented as a fledgling, amateur pastime monopolised by the upper echelons of society. A silent transformation is underway in this backdrop, spearheaded by James Walsh, who owns a working-class team. He has his eyes set on the covertly talented duo, Fergus Suter and Jimmy Love, to bolster his squad for a formidable encounter. This clash sees them pitted against the prestigious Old Etonians, with their influence firmly entrenched in the FA and players doubling as board members. As these established hierarchies defy the sanctity of the sport's rules, the prospects for working-class players soar, signalling monumental changes on the horizon for football. Kevin Guthrie stars as Fergus Suter, believed to be the first discernible professional footballer who, despite his Scottish roots, moved to England to play for Blackburn Rovers. Arthur Kinnaird, a central figure throughout the series, is depicted as a wealthy aristocrat and star player for the Etonians team. His character is inspired by a real-life individual who was instrumental in shaping the game, portrayed by Edward Holcroft, famed for his role in The Kingsman. One critic said: "The costume and production design is immersive; it's all quite gorgeously shot, and the whole stands alongside The Crown in showing that Netflix can get this stuff done every bit as well as the BBC." Another viewer added: "Good show. It starts off a little slow but quickly picks it up and turns into a very enjoyable show. Really good acting, and the story keeps you engaged. It is based off of real events, and it seems like they did a decent job of portraying them. Some of the side plots seem a little useless, but that's just par for the course. Definitely a good watch." Despite being a short series with only six episodes, it covers a significant amount of content, making it an easy binge-watch for those seeking their next period drama fix. However, some viewers have pointed out inaccuracies, expressing disappointment over the "no mention of Sheffield rules". Immerse yourself in the drama of 1800s football by tuning into The English Game, now streaming on Netflix.
The Guardian
16-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
No bab, Brummies don't sound stupid – all the ignorant people who mock our accent do
It's curious, what escapes people's idea of rudeness. For instance: pointing out someone's weight is a unanimous no-go, but height – surely even more arbitrary – continues to be fair game. Ditto commenting derogatorily on where someone's from – at least, as long as it's Birmingham, England's second city and first punchline for jokes about idiotic accents and general urban bleakness. As an unusually tall woman who grew up in that much-maligned metropolis, I have direct experience of both, and can confirm that while they're equally annoying, the latter is much more pernicious. It is extraordinary what comes out of generally polite people's mouths when I tell them I'm from Birmingham – from hilarious faux condolences to variations on, 'Oh, I hear it's horrible.' By far the most common reaction, though, is a caricature echo – 'Biiirrrmmingum!' – the joke being that the accent is awful as well as the city (so, so funny!). All this, even though I never picked up the twang myself; not intentional, though I'm sure my lack of discernible Brummie accent has been protective, socially and professionally. When Kate Adie revealed the BBC's (unofficial and historic) league table of the country's least favourite accents, no one was surprised to see who came out worst – poor, picked-on Birmingham. Asked why he never used his native accent in reporting, Brummie journalist Michael Buerk apparently replied: 'I didn't want death threats.' And in a study from 2008, researchers found that people who spoke with a Birmingham accent were more likely to be perceived as stupid than those who didn't open their mouths at all. Yikes. Imagine if someone told you they were pregnant, and you said, 'Oh what a shame, I hate children.' Or that they were a singer, and you said, 'Music is so boring.' That unmediated negativity might sound ridiculous – but while I haven't lived in Birmingham since I was 18, in the intervening years I don't remember hearing one positive reaction after mentioning that I grew up there. Actually, that's not strictly true – sharing my Birmingham origins did serve me well once, at a house party where a trio of Old Etonians somehow materialised, as in a fever dream. When I told them where I was from, their concern for my presumable lifetime of Dickensian deprivation was delicious to behold. One of them said: 'Gosh, I hear it's frightfully urban.' To be clear, I don't expect anyone to reply 'Wow! I love Birmingham!' when I say I'm from there – just to respond with the nonchalance that any other answer would elicit. I doubt anyone from Norwich or Exeter has encountered the baffling hostility that someone from Birmingham grows used to, but maybe we should turn the tables so they know how it feels. Chichester? Oh, you poor thing! York? A tragedy! What's more, Brumphobia's bizarre brazenness is only amplified by the realisation that none of its sufferers seem to have actually visited. It's not that I'm encountering a parade of people who have travelled to my home town, been somehow traumatised and vowed never to return – on the contrary, they hate it blindly, with an astounding self-confidence normally reserved for bona fide bigots. It's almost funny, except when it isn't. When I first moved cities, the overwhelming anti-Birmingham sentiment led me to (briefly) fudge my own life story. Cast your mind back to the hell of freshers' week and maybe you can forgive me. Newly independent and navigating crippling social pressure, I alternated between claiming London, where I was born, or Sydney, where my mum is from, for my origins. Look, there's only so many 'Biiirrrmmingum's a teenager can take – but ultimately, neither cover story felt true, and I began to own my roots. Today, I declare them with relish, steeling myself for the inevitable 'Biiirrrmmingum!' bait. 'That's so funny, no one's ever said that before,' I reply, doing everything in my power to stop my eyes rolling out of my head. 'Ever been?' If you haven't, you should. Birmingham is great. The city is dynamic, diverse, open-hearted, and one of the friendliest places in the UK. We've apparently got more miles of canal than Venice, and everyone knows that what makes a canal beautiful is how long it is. And as for the accent, it's near enough Shakespeare's, for God's sake! Admittedly, 2025 is not our finest moment – the council is effectively bankrupt and the ongoing bin strike means the city is full of cat-sized rats – but it'll take more than that to sink the good ship Brum. Ironically, years of derision have made it impervious to outside criticism, and the accent will always feel like home to me. Its speakers don't sound stupid, but after years of fielding their jibes, I can confirm that the people who mock them certainly do. Pay them no mind, bab. Emily Watkins is a freelance writer based in London
