There's one splendid section when this comes gloriously alive - the cross dressing football player puts on a dress on goes on a tear with his fake girlfriend. That's when you see what this piece is, at heart - a slightly over the top farce. It's not really a serious or even comic-serious look at cross dressing because it's too silly, and we only have the one cross dresser.
The manager of the player is a stock Williamson alpha, as is the sleazy jourmo character, the player is a cross dresser and that's about it, his girlfriend is a stock Williamson sexy hooker, the girl who tries to treat the player is... just a nice person.
It skims over a whole lot of fascinating areas that Williamson could have explored really well - toxic masculinity, notions of roles for people - but he can't. Which I guess is fine - if he pushed it into high farce which he does for a bit but then the girlfriend disappears and it's sort of played nationalistically but never believably.
There are some really funny moments. Just wish it was better and he had a dramaturg on it.
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