The Hooligan Factory

Synopsis: Danny wants something more. Expelled from school and living in his grandfathers flat, he longs to live up to the image of his estranged father Danny Senior. Sent to prison for force feeding a judge his own wig Danny Senior was a legend and Danny is looking for a way to emulate his father's achievements and rise to be "top boy". Meanwhile in Wormwood Scrubs prison legendary football hooligan Dex is about to be released. Dex is on a quest of his own, one of vengeance against his nemesis and rival firm leader Yeti. But when Danny and Dex's paths cross they embark on a journey as old as hooliganism itself. Dex, Danny and The Hooligan Factory travel the length of the country on a mission to re-establish their firm's glory days. However, the police are closing in and we get a sense that the Hooligan Factory's best days may be behind them, but with Danny on their side, and Dex finding his old form who knows where this may lead. After all... Its a funny old game.
Genre: Comedy
Director(s): Nick Nevern
Production: Think Big Studios
Rotten Tomatoes:
90 min

Look at me.

I said look at me.


Danny, it's me, mate.

Your old mate Mickey!

Here, Jack, have a look.

You'll never guess who it is.

It's only young Danny.

- Our Danny?

- Yeah.


What the f*ck's he doing

in a motor with Tony and Pat?

Yes, Dan. What are you doing

in a motor with Tony and Pat?

I thought you had more sense than that.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Don't know no Tony.

That was me mate Jeff.

Are you telling us that ain't Tony T?

Jack, what do you reckon?


Don't know, Mickey.

I shot him in the face.



Oh, mate, what a fucking mess.

I'm so sorry, Dan. I feel so embarrassed.

How about the other geezer in the back?

- Paul.

- Paul.

Paul, Paul, Paul.

- Jack.

- Yo.

- Did you shoot the other geezer in the...

- Yep.

Shot him in the face, too.

I don't know what to say, mate.

Feel terrible. Terrible.

Look at your motor.

I've left it in a right

two and eight, ain't I?

- It's all right.

- No it ain't, Dan.

- Because there's blood.

- Brains.

And brains.

And that ain't never gonna come out.


Probably them, innit?

Right, Dan, listen we got to slip away.

But you be lucky, yeah.

- Right, Jack, let's crack on, son.

- Let's do it.

Third time lucky.

It was the end of an era.

Well, for them lot anyway.

For me, it was only the beginning.

But before the pills and the clubs,

the birds, the booze,

the torture and the tracksuits,

there was football.

And more importantly,

football-related violence.

Because as far back as I could remember,

I always wanted to be an hooligan.

Well, I suppose we'd better start

near the beginning.


What a shithole. But we

made the most of it.

Oh, have a look. That's me there.

That's me best mate Fanta.

And this wanker is Mr Burroughs.

Something funny, Johnson?

No, sir.

Passing notes.

Come on then. Come up to the front.

We're all very keen to share the joke.

Yes, sir.


Like I said, wanker.

- It says that you had...

- To the whole class.

It says that you had Freddie Fitzpatrick

round your house for extra maths tuition.

Really, Johnson?

And that you made him watch

while you touched your willy.

And then bent him over

and tongued his butthole.

- Anything else?

- Yeah, there's a picture here and all.

Well, that's you, sir.

And that's obviously you, Freddie.

Johnson, you're going to end up

just like your father.

Now this didn't sound like

such a bad thing to me.

But I got the feeling he

meant it as an insult.

You wanna make one with me, son, do ya?

That's me old man, Danny Senior,

the fucking legend.

You want to make one with me?

Do you know who I am?

Do you know who I am?

What you looking at?

Come on then, oh, come on their attack...

It was a shame he had

to ruin the game, though,

because I wasn't a bad little player.

Right, it's fucking on now.

A scout from Man United came to our school

once and tried to get me to sign.

Done you a favour there, son.

That mob are never gonna

amount to nothing.

- Hold that, mush.

- Mr Johnson.

This is a school. Mr Johnson!

Yep, my old man loved football.

Never back down, son.

Do you hear me? Always stand your ground.

Stand your ground!

So I took a leaf out

the old man's book and said...

F*ck off, you two-bob slag.

Of course it turns out Burroughs

was fiddling Freddie Fitzpatrick after all.

And they told me

I could come back to school.

But f*ck that.

Mr Johnson, due to your complete

lack of remorse for your crime

and your repeated failure to show any signs

of wanting to change your lifestyle,

I sentence you to five years.

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    "The Hooligan Factory" STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 6 Mar. 2021. <>.

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