Gripping, arresting and totally believable from the start, this is excitingly authentic. The terrible game of rugby league football is beautifully shot in all the horror of its violent thuggery and macho heroism. The streets, the houses, the shops, the pubs, the clubs and the children playing all evoke memories of that admittedly dreary but familiar visions. The living spaces, some cramped and dinged, like mine a that time, and others spacious and exuding that illusive smell of success (or upper class thuggery!) All this is fine and Richard Harris is fully believable as the film's angry young man. It is just that as the, rather overlong, film continues we get less of the 'sporting life' and the 'dead end streets' and more of the 'love' story and rather clumsy stabs at class warfare. In the end we are rather tiring of all the 'I love you', 'I hate you' cries and welcome the closing credit but it is still very much a worth seeing film that probably catches more of what it really felt like to be in Britain late 50s/early 60s than any other film I have seen.