Like an ancient warhorse hearing the bugle for one last time, readers of a certain age will be snorting and whinnying at the words “Gareth” and “Edwards”. They are irresistible madeleines for the legends of Welsh rugby: unfeasible 70s sideburns, neck-high tackles and JPR Williams on the overlap.
These days, though, things are different: Gareth Edwards is also the name of the unassuming, Midlands-born fortysomething film director sitting in front of me, who has quietly acquired a reputation as one of Britain’s most accomplished franchise movie-makers. “I’ve had it my whole life, to be honest,” he says. “My dad was a massive rugby fan. My comedy goal is that the Gareth Edwards does something and everybody goes: ‘Oh, the film‑maker?’ That would be it. I could die happy after that.”
