Howerd’s End, ***
‘Ooh missus’, prepare for a titter and a knees-up of nostalgia. Howerd’s End, delivered on the 33rd anniversary of Frankie Howerd‘s tragic departure, is a two-man cuddle for his most devoted fans. Written by Mark Farrelly, it takes the audience back to a particular golden age of British comedy that’s as saucy and salty as a seaside postcard.
Frankie Howerd (Simon Cartwright), synonymous with British comedy for the post-war decades, carved a unique path. He had early success on the radio, where his inimitable style earned him roles on stage and screen. His television work, particularly Up Pompeii! cemented his status as a master of innuendo and audience interaction. Trademark bewildered stares, the hesitant delivery followed by an explosion of exasperation were the hallmarks of a comedy style that defied categorization. He conquered the West End, charmed millions on television, and even flirted with Hollywood, while staying true to his own particular talent for absurdity
Backstage, there was a more painful reality. Frankie was intensely guarded about his private life. His years in the closet in an intolerant era that still loved a camp joke as long as the entendres were doubles and triples. Dennis (Farrelly), his lover, masquerading as his assistant and chauffeur, is portrayed reminiscing brokenheartedly about their relationship. They met when Dennis was a sommelier, hinting at a coded underground far removed from the glaring lights of the stage. The play touches upon the darker corners of Frankie’s early life, the shadow of an abusive father whose violence and abuse left deep scars. We learn of Frankie’s experimentation with LSD, a desperate attempt to come to terms with his sexuality or perhaps find a pill to ‘cure him’The story unfolds in fragments of Frankie’s world. Snippets of his most beloved comedy routines are integrated, provoking waves of recognition from the audience. Intimate scenes with Dennis offer a glimpse into their private sanctuary, filled with both affection and strain. We witness Frankie’s sessions with his psychiatrist, offering moments of vulnerability and self-reflection. Crucially, the play incorporates direct address to the audience, breaking the fourth wall, mirroring Frankie’s distinctive crowd work, drawing us into his confidence and his world.
Cartwright carefully handles this idiosyncratic figure. He does not truly become Frankie Howerd. Howerd’s talent was too particular, too rooted in his body and his being. Cartwright offers a mimicry, capturing the vocal inflections, the hesitant pauses, the sudden bursts of outrage with skill but not brilliance. Ultimately, Howerd’s End feels like an act of gratitude from the audience, the writer and the performers. A chance to spend time in the company of a unique comedian, to laugh at familiar but timeless routines, and recognize how broken the man was behind the mirth.
| Queerguru Contributing Editor ANDREW HEBDEN is a MEDIA and cultural STUDIES graduate spending his career between London, Beijing, and NYC as an expert in media and social trends. As part of the expanding minimalist FIRE movement, he recently returned to the UK and lives in Soho. He devotes as much time as possible to the movies, theatre, and the gym. His favorite thing is to try something (anything) new every day. |
PS You may also like to check out a recent interview Mark Farelly had with QG https://queerguru.com/howerds-end-the-live-and-times-of-the-great-queer-british-comic-frankie-howerd/
