The London Theatre Review: Ben Weatherill’s Frank and Percy

By Ross

“If I didn’t like hearing you talk, I wouldn’t be here,” says one not-so-young man to another, quite early on in this touchingly joyous and slow luxurious drizzle. It’s the coming together of two very different souls finding some form of companionship and care one casual dog day on Hampstead Heath in the spring. I must admit that the quote might reveal the exact same reason I found myself at London’s The Other Palace Theatre one Sunday afternoon with a group of friends. Because I very much wanted to see, and hear what Ian McKellen (“Lord of the Rings“; West End’s Ian McKellen on Stage) was up to in this fine new play, Frank and Percy, written with a keen ear for small talk with meaning by Ben Weatherill (Jellyfish; Chicken Dust). And we weren’t disappointed in the least.

Taking himself to the Heath with his unseen dog in tow, a feisty man of a certain age by the name of Percy, played delightfully and sneakily by McKellen begins a conversation with the freshly widowed Frank, played lovingly by Roger Allam (Donmar Warehouse’s Limehouse). It starts out natural and kind, playing with preconceived notions and ideas of the other that feel as real as can be. Yet it develops into something far beyond the initial gentle back and forth around health issues and hearing aids. And that’s about the gist of the whole thing, and what a lovely gist of a play it is (not without a few oddly shaped sticks thrown in the way).

As directed with gentle care by Sean Mathias (Public Theater’s Gently Down the Stream; Broadway’s Waiting For Godot/No Man’s Land in rep), Frank and Percy is the simplest of plays, with a few curved sticks thrown out hazardly into the field. I first described the play somewhat incorrectly to my friends as a play about two older men sitting in a park talking. I wasn’t all that wrong in that assumption, but it is something a wee bit more. There’s a simple sweetness to these two men finding their way around and in towards one another, especially in all the ways they differ. It’s clever and frisky, much like McKellen’s Percy, who swings moods, avoidant tendencies, and caring engagements like he’s playing some sort of balled-up game with an umbrella. His swings are a bit much, as written, but McKellen, not surprisingly, pulls this character off with ease, giving us ample opportunities to find a compelling connection with this cranky man, even when he acts so impulsively and cold.

Allam, an actor who is somewhat new to me, uncovers an undeniable sweetness to this bumbling awkward man, especially around the gentle bombs that Percy likes to drop at his feet. Percy watches with almost glee, seeing how he’ll pick them up and what he will do with them, as the play finds its way through the woods and into our hearts. The play is smart, never letting us see too far ahead (as I’m trying to be as vague as I can, so you’ll be pleasantly surprised as well), as the two find their way into each other’s personal space.

Their love and attachment history as well as past marital relationship unpackings saunter out like an easy stroll, as if each is trying to gauge what the other will think about their revelations and their vulnerabilities. A touching spark between the two is ignited, quite naturally, and as that clever circular revolve moves them closer to one another, scene by scene, designed lovingly and wisely by set and costume designer Morgan Large (West End/Mirvish’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat) with careful fun location lighting by Nick Richings (Broadway’s La Cage Aux Folles) and a solid sound design barking in the background by Andy Graham (West End’s The Crown Jewels), Frank and Percy dog-runs forward with wise warmth and care.

Each brings some wisdom and nuance to the forefront, emphasizing vulnerable openness, LGBTQ+ struggles, heartbreak, love, and emotional retreat. Mathias does a fine job keeping the alignment alive and full, as the stage rotates them through numerous bickering complications and contentious conflicts over personal views and emotional care, all carried out smoothly inside restaurants, a hospital waiting room, and a karaoke bar, to name a few, these two seasoned actors find winning moments inside this clever and surprising game.

There are a few “Here We Come Again” moments, strategically placed around shopping at Marks & Spencer or discussions about cancer and AIDS. There are some subtle hints and red herrings, served with monkfish and a Sandra Bullock movie reference, but it all brings us back to the safety and security of their dog park. The play as a whole doesn’t really have a fully thought-out trajectory, but with these two solid actors giving us a solid connecting glimpse into love and attraction in our golden years, it’s hard not to just sit back and enjoy the afternoon, even if it drizzles a bit, here and there. “How can you resist me?” he asks. And all I can say to that is, ‘I can’t’. And I don’t even want to. I’d just rather come out dancing, rather than “worry about everything“. It’s the only way forward.