After so many Covid starts and stops for the Mark Farrelly play Howerd’s End, about Frankie Howerd and the life he felt he had to keep secret, it is finally on, writes Michael Holland…
I’ve seen all Farrelly’s theatre work to date but I’ve never seen him in a two-hander. He has always stood alone, commanding the attention while portraying the life of an actor or author he has written about.
How will he be when sharing the stage and spotlight and adulation?
Well, in fact, he takes the part of the less well-known character here and spends a lot of time in the shadows. Not only in the performance but in the reality of this sad and poignant tale.
Farrelly plays Dennis Heymer, a young sommelier who catches the eye of comedian Frankie Howerd (Simon Cartwright) in a hotel bar. ‘Do you bowl from the pavilion end?’ was Howerd’s chat-up line.
‘No, but I have sex with men,’ was the cheeky comeback.
That was in the 1950s and they spent the next 40 years together, until Howerd’s death.
But it was a relationship fraught with anxiety on Howerd’s part. Homosexuality was a crime, homophobia was dangerously rife, and he had a career to think about, so always kept his lover at arm’s length, hidden, introduced as his friend, his driver, his… anything but the truth.
Their story is told in flashback. An elderly Heymer sits wearing a silk housecoat in the Somerset home they once shared, a brandy to hand when Frankie turns up with an hour for them to reminisce. An hour for Howerd to say sorry and repent for not showing his love when they were together. An hour to tell the tale that could not be told in life.
We see Frankie’s concerns about his sexuality – even wishing he was born straight – and his eventual spiral into depression. His career slides out of fashion, Dennis sends him to therapy, he turns to LSD to seek out and come to terms with his inner-self, but nothing appears to work. He covers up his worries and lack of confidence with multiple affairs and easy sex. And all the time Dennis is ready to prop him up, to show him some love, and just be there for him. But, alas, barely getting the recognition he deserved, not getting the love back that he had freely given for years even after their love was not deemed a crime in the eyes of the law.
There are glimpses of Howerd’s intermittent revivals and comebacks when his comedy was considered genius by young contemporary comics; Peter Cook invited him to a season at the legendary Establishment Club, the Oxford Union had him give a talk, but although Howerd was front and centre performing his unique routines for most of the evening, the play is really about Heymer and how he went largely unappreciated.
In the dream-like finale we see Howerd declaring his love for Heymer. Did it happen? I would like to think that they did have loving moments like that.
Brockley Jack Studio Theatre, 410 Brockley Road, London, SE4 2DH until 12th March at 7.30pm. Admission: £16, £14.
www.brockleyjack.co.uk or 0333 666 3366 (£1.80 fee for phone bookings only)