Rick Powell’s review published on Letterboxd:
It was everything I could do to get through this utterly ordinary gay romance. The film's only claim to novelty is the rugby field, and yet it manages to fuck that up, too, with some of the most inept and unconvincing sports choreography I've seen in a while.
But the worst of it is the generic dialogue. At one point, a character asks his lover and fellow "cheater," "How did we end up here, Mark?"
Oh, I dunno…a shitty script?