Speaking Frankly: Michael Hockey’s To Be Frank

★★★★★

Michael Hockey is completely animated as Frank. And, to be frank, this was one of the funniest performances I have ever seen. I’ve rarely felt so emotionally invested in a man with so little to say.

One frankulous hour explores the slapstick joviality of a creation making his own creations out of balloons. Frank is birthed onstage and, from there, we witness what might be called the early adolescence, or perhaps toddlerdom, of his life. He gets to know his limbs. He discovers his surroundings. He learns, in his own explosive, chaotic way, how to exist.

This is a rather tricky feat, not least for the audience, as Frank stumbles precariously around the room. You never quite know where (or on whom) he might land. Yet beneath the slapstick, To Be Frank manages to genuinely explore something of the human condition; about curiosity, resilience and the novelty of the ordinary. Frank connects immediately with his audience, and that connection remains until the very end. At times, it is strangely difficult to remember that this is an actor performing a character and not some bewildered creature experiencing the world for the first time.

Frank speaks, or, indistinctly communicates, in little more than grunts and murmurs. Yet Hockey’s physical performance is so vivid and fastidious that language becomes almost unnecessary. A slight raise of an eyebrow, a giggle or a fleeting microexpression can communicate an entire thought. For a performance in which more or less not one word of English is uttered, To Be Frank is remarkably perceptive.

Additionally, Hockey’s movements are accompanied by Alanna Hall’s electric guitar, which provides an immaculate auditory description of Frank’s physical world. Emphasized by a guitar stroke, a single step suddenly acquires its own sound. Consequently, the microcosm of To Be Frank develops its own unspoken language, where a grunt or a simple hand movement can communicate more than words might. Hockey and Hall work in such impeccably close tandem that the score begins to feel like another dimension of Frank himself. 

Slapstick has rarely felt so endearing. To Be Frank is not only one of the best shows I’ve experienced at this Fringe, but it is unexpectedly special: silly, strange, technically accomplished and remarkably tender.

Running at Pleasance until 30 August, this is not one to miss. Have a drink in hand (at your own risk).

Eilidh Paterson