The Football Factory Movie Review:


Tommy’s (Dyer) mundane weekday life was all but forgotten as soon as Saturday came around. This was his chance to meet up with his mates, have
some drinks, maybe do some drugs and then go down the football. A hardened, life long Chelsea supporter, Tommy’s goal wasn’t to go down Stanford Bridge and watch the beautiful game, no. It was find the rival fans, get his mates together and then kick their heads in. To him, this is what Saturday was all about.

As the media and most of the footballing community continue to see English football supporters as hooligans, a film like this does absolutely nothing to sway their opinions, only fuel them.

The Football Factory is the worst possible kind of movie. It plays up to the thug mentality of a small percentage of the football watching fraternity, to
the point that it glorifies their ideals and way of life. Not an ounce of remorse or regret is shown by any of the instantly repugnant characters that
pollute the screen making this seem little more than a rally cry for the mindless so-called fans of the most watched sport in the world.

The film's underlying message of bored males struggling to find an outlet in life that will make them feel like men, is neither sympathetic or
understandable. These are people who are not short of money, who live in London and support Chelsea, so you are supposed to emphasise with their lack
of direction and clarity in life. These are the worst kind of people. They are stupidly territorial, inherently racist and have little in their lives
that anyone would be envious of but the filmmakers expect you to connect with these people?

The cast do their best with their limited, stereotypical roles. Danny Dyer isn’t a bad actor and anyone who as seen Human Traffic will agree. He does his best with Tommy as the plot tries to make the character appealing as he the wrestles with his subconscious, knowing his inevitable beating is coming. But just as you think that a revelation is coming and the character is going to see the error of his way, the plot takes a turn for the worst as glorification raises its ugly head again. Frank Harper sticks to form as West London hard man Billy Bright. This is a role that Harper can play in his sleep, making him truly despicable and a man you would never want to meet. Neil Maskell and Roland Manookain also try their best as Ron and Zeberdee.

Director Nick Love tries so desperately to make this movie the hooligan’s version of Trainspotting. But were Danny Boyle’s classic showed the darker
side of the drug world, this movie does nothing to illustrate consequences of such violence. The fights, while brutal, lack believability as victims
take their kickings only to return with a few bruises and the odd bandage. In one scene a rival is hit across the head with a cricket bat, only to be
seen out the following night with a large bandage on his head. This only serves to make the violence less of a deterrent and more of an acceptable
part of life that has little consequences.

The Football Factory is a truly deplorable film that only serves to glorify the thug mentality of the limited minority of so called football fans. It
does nothing to rationalise the behaviour of these unappealing and unsavoury characters, only serving as a reminder of the worst kind of supporter that
the game is so desperate to leave behind.

Star Rating = *

Jamie Kelwick

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