25 Years On: There’s Still Only One Jimmy Grimble

Twenty-five years ago we finished a small Manchester story about a shy lad, a battered pair of boots and the strange magic of belief. We didn’t set out to make a “football film” so much as a film about finding your voice. That it’s still being discovered a quarter of a century later is the best kind of surprise.

I remember the shoot in sharp little flashes: rain on school railings; a freezing touchline; the day we filmed at Maine Road and the crowd noise rolled around the stadium like weather. We kept it local, real schools, real streets and let the city seep into every frame. Robert Carlyle, Ray Winstone and Gina McKee brought grit and warmth; young Lewis McKenzie gave us the beating heart the film needed.

People sometimes ask why Jimmy Grimble stuck. For me it’s three things:

• Belief, not “magic.” The boots are a nudge; the real change happens when an adult believes in you and a team starts to feel like home.

• Place. You can feel Manchester under your feet—the pride, the rivalry, the humour, the rain.

• Scale. It’s not about winning the world. It’s about winning your world.

We were lucky, too. The film travelled: the Crystal Bear at Berlin, the Golden Gryphon at Giffoni, prizes at Ale Kino! in Poznań, and a BIFA nomination for Lewis. Awards aren’t why you make things, but when a modest British movie connects with audiences far from home, you take a quiet breath and carry on.

If you fancy a memory lane wander, Mundial/GOAL have a lovely behind-the-scenes piece on the film’s making and the City lore threaded through it: Mostly, though, I just want to say thank you. To everyone who watched it on VHS, DVD, late-night telly or a streaming sidebar; to the teachers who still show it to their teams; to the parents who tell me their kids found a bit of courage in it. Twenty-five years on, Jimmy’s still out there—muddy, hopeful, and finally speaking up.