Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney emphasize community trust, hands-off football decisions, and emotional investment in players as the secret to Wrexham's success.
Sources say early skepticism from locals was real—they feared Hollywood clowns ruining their club. Also: Reynolds admits he's 'devastated' when players leave while they 'take it better than we do.'
FX ordered three additional seasons (through Season 8) in April 2026; Wrexham advanced to FA Cup Fifth Round for first time in 29 years (February); Joey Jones died July 2025.
The docuseries has become a cultural phenomenon, but Reynolds and McElhenney's willingness to show vulnerability—player goodbyes, community grief—suggests they've moved beyond celebrity tourism into something more authentic.
"Welcome to Wrexham" is back for Season 5, and Ryan Reynolds isn't holding back. In a candid new interview with Variety published May 15, 2026, the Hollywood star—who along with "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" creator Rob McElhenney purchased Wrexham AFC in November 2020—opened up about filming through heartbreak, building genuine trust with the Welsh community, and why watching players leave feels like a personal gut punch. The timing couldn't be more significant. FX just locked in three additional seasons of the Emmy-winning docuseries, committing to at least Season 8. "If we were picked up for 40 more seasons, I don't think that we would ever scratch the surface of telling all these stories," Reynolds told Variety. But the expansion comes with mounting pressure: Wrexham sits one promotion away from the Premier League, a feat that seemed impossible when cameras first rolled in 2022. Perhaps most striking is how Season 5 handles its heaviest material. The premiere features Bailey Jones, a young passionate fan who passed away in 2023 from a brain bleed. "They know the spirit by which we're trying to make the show, and they asked if we would tell their story," McElhenney explained. "Once it was told to us, we jumped at the opportunity." The second episode tackles an even more devastating loss: Joey Jones, the beloved Welsh football legend dubbed "Mr. Wrexham" who died in July 2025. Reynolds called him "bigger than a legend" and noted that when Chelsea visited for the FA Cup match in February—the club's first Fifth Round appearance in 29 years—Wrexham fans responded by displaying Joey Jones tributes. "That's one to be really proud of," Reynolds said. The emotional stakes extend beyond fan stories. McElhenney admitted that player departures hit him and Reynolds harder than the athletes themselves. "We've got some players who play for 13, 14, 15 different teams, and when they leave, that's just the nature of the business. Ryan and I are devastated, because we're so close to them." He added that players "take it better than we do," a confession that reveals how deeply embedded these two Hollywood outsiders have become in Wrexham's fabric—perhaps more invested emotionally than financially strategic. That investment seems deliberate. When asked about roster decisions, Reynolds was emphatic: "Phil Parkinson would say no to probably the greatest footballer on the planet if their character was in question... We don't make football decisions, and that turns out to be the greatest strategic move you could ever make around a club like this." By stepping back from personnel choices, they've created space for genuine relationships with players who know exactly where they stand. "They know Rob and I are not going to be responsible for their contract extension or cancellation," Reynolds explained, allowing them to provide emotional support rather than career-threatening judgment. The approach has clearly paid off—Wrexham Women's team secured the Adran Premier title in March 2026 after beating Cardiff City, a fairy tale Reynolds called "emblematic of the tide shifting all over the world." Construction on the 7,500-seat Kop stand is underway, expanding total capacity to over 18,000. But for Reynolds and McElhenney, the real victory might be simpler: they've managed to transform from Hollywood interlopers into community stewards, earning trust the hard way—through patience, vulnerability, and apparently, a willingness to get emotionally wrecked every time someone signs with another club.
