At one point in this strangely engrossing three-part Disney+ documentary, Colin Rooney lightly complains that no one took the Vagata Christi trial seriously. That the media and the public, experts and people, cats in baskets and dogs on the streets, all saw it as entertainment, a circus, a bit of sport; one big, hot, popcorn-eating mess. Guilty as charged, Your Honor.
However, if it was true then, is it true now? The dark pace of this mini-series, filled with foreboding and the kind of eerie music that plays in Disney’s The Little Mermaid when Ursula, the evil sea witch appears from behind a hostile anemone, tells a different story.
Dressed in pink cashmere, with her hair wrapped in a duchess chignon, Colin ushers us into the Vagatha shop. She calmly explains how and why she turned to an amateur online sleuth to find out who was leaking stories from her private Instagram to The Sun.
“It’s… Rebecca Vardy’s account,” the elliptical mistress revealed in 2019, setting off a chain of events that would end up in the High Court. The fix went in, but the fallout was spectacular.
“It was the beginning of one of the scariest times I’ve ever been through in my life,” says Colin. Yes, even worse than husband Wayne’s historical indulgences with booze, old slappers, and various other women over the years. “When he’s been drinking, he’s a completely different person,” is her meek explanation here. “Some mistakes are harder to forgive than others,” she tells viewers.
Since this is Colleen’s story as told by Colleen, it’s no surprise that she’s portrayed here as an innocent Disney princess in all her Little Mermaid glory
Vardy denied all the allegations, sued Rooney for defamation and promptly lost the case
Meanwhile, Vardy denied all allegations, sued Rooney for defamation and promptly lost the case. That was supposed to be the end, but of course it was just the beginning. “This is my story to tell,” says Colleen, who talks extensively in this documentary, on chat shows and in a new autobiography called My Account, published next month. To Colleen’s credit, there is no trace of malice or triumphalism in her version of these sorry events, although she is clearly not a woman to be insulted, especially when it comes to her family. ‘It was so sneaky, it was so brazen,’ she roars.
In each episode, we glimpse Wag’s undeniable loneliness at a distance, despite the comfort afforded by endless luxury and fur-lined Gucci loafers. And with four young sons and a young husband to contend with, Colleen organizes the home front with astonishing fervor; Post-it notes, pre-packaged school bags, children’s names written on their enamel mugs and polite instructions here and there. “Shurrup, Wayne,” she tells him, when the former England captain suggests a line of questioning to her lawyers.
Is three episodes one too many? Not for me. I can’t get enough of the expensive Rooney cars rumbling down Rooney’s driveway to the exquisite Rooney McMansion in Cheshire; a rich arcadia where the trees are lit by dots, precisely trimmed topiary and the lake decorated with cane fringes, probably by Versace. Windows glisten on the huge Edwardian house, with a homemade “Rooney Family” rug, white marble savannahs and a colossal five-person fridge. At the center of the house, which shines like the cold heart of a diamond, is Wayne’s room with museum-quality glass trophies.
This is the kernel that brought the peach lifestyle, but Colleen is not terribly impressed. “I think there’s a goalie who has more games,” she says, gesturing toward a cabinet. She vaguely wonders if some of the medals could do with a little dusting.
Since this is Colleen’s story as told by Colleen, it’s no surprise that she’s portrayed here as an innocent Disney princess in all her Little Mermaid glory, with Rebecca Vardy cast as the unspeakable Ursula, the play’s villain. But seriously, how could it be otherwise? From her spiteful texts about Colin, to the redacted messages on a phone that was conveniently dropped in the North Sea, Vardy’s case just didn’t hold up in court. Interestingly, she does not contribute directly to this documentary, but what could she possibly say in her defense? ‘OMG OMG OMG’, perhaps, judging by the tenor of most of her lyrics.
Coleen Rooney never wanted to go to court for such a ‘pathetic reason’
Coleen Rooney never wanted to go to court for such a “pathetic reason”, but when she learned that the alternative would be to pay Vardy compensation and make a public apology, she pulled on her Prada heels and went all the way to trial.
“I tell my kids, always tell the truth,” she explains. This has echoes of Gwyneth Paltrow’s skiing accident trial earlier this year, when the actress went to court to fight a £2m opportunistic claim that she ran into a 76-year-old man, causing him injury and cascading health problems. Her children were skiing with her at the time and Paltrow, who won the case, believed she had to stand up for the truth and set an example for them. Colin Rooney apparently feels the same way.
“For me, the most important thing is to get justice for telling the truth,” says our dimpled heroine, a little mermaid for her age.
Then it’s back to its comforting sea of post-it notes and social media posts, a victory lap that is thoroughly deserved.