As I speak with Frank Skully he is abroad in Dominica for his father’s 90 birthday. He holds a towel in his hand as we speak, wiping away the beads of sweat that form on his brow. He is a charismatic and charming man who has worked in the theatre now for almost 40 years.
He did not get into theatre by starring in his school play or going to drama school, but instead through incarceration. For many, prison does not offer hope of a better life after, but for Frank, theatre became his form of escapism.
We are talking at quite a topical time for theatre in prison as the film ‘Sing Sing’ has just been released. It’s a film about rehabilitation Through the Arts program at Sing Sing Maximum Security Prison and Frank tells me I have to go and see it as that’s his life, just the English version of it.
“I sat through that film and I cried because I felt everything. You know, the arts in prison saves you, man. And it saved me. And Sing Sing described it so well. It’s a space where you walk into and for that hour, two hours, you’re not in prison,” said Frank.
“You put that theatre mask on and you’re whoever you’re playing and it’s the greatest piece of escapism. And the guys that were involved in my group, we bonded so well.”
It was lucky that Frank found his calling in prison. Growing up in the 60s and 70s in London was hard for a black man. He added: “This was a time when they would tell you in your face, we don’t want no black people working here. When people tell you that to your face, it’s a hard pill to swallow.”
For Frank, the idea of ‘fast money’ and ‘not being part of the system’ was very appealing to the young man from Notting Hill. He said he became ‘pretty disillusioned with normal society’ and started living his life ‘in a sort of parallel universe’ which is how he ended up committing crimes and going to prison.
At 18, Frank first found himself in prison because of theft and was sentenced to six years. He was taken to a high-security prison on the Isle of Wight where he was living between major criminals – a Chicago Mobster and a member of the Mossad.
“It was at times frightening. But human nature is a great thing, you get used to it and you sink or swim and fortunately for me, I swam, even though I’m not a swimmer,” laughs Frank.
In the Isle of Wight prison, Frank worked in the library and this is where he had access to books. This was the start of the path that Frank walks today. He was able to expand his mind with the literature that he was reading.
“I loved reading biographies,” he said, “I loved reading black history books, stuff I didn’t get to read in school. Poems, Maya Angelou stuff, uplifting stuff, a lot of Black Panther stuff. A lot of black history books that I never got to see at school, let alone read.”
Frank says that ‘reading led to writing’ and without knowing it he was writing a script. “I would write scenarios of incidents and change the names. I always thought these things would be good for me in the future. I don’t know why but maybe because I used to watch a lot of films, I was that guy that was saying ‘I could do better than that’, so in a way, I always knew this would come (his career in acting).”
The writing led to taking part in prison drama and pantomimes. He found his passion as a thespian and performing in prison was a brutal entrance into life on stage. “Prisoners are a tough crowd let me tell you. No actor is going to get a tougher crowd than a prison crowd, because these guys have no theatre etiquette. Because from the minute the lights go on if you’re f****** s***, they’ll tell you you’re s*** and they’ll throw s*** at you and tell you about yourself.
“I’m happy to say that I’ve never had s*** thrown at me but I’ve been heckled a few times. One time the next day (after a performance) I can remember going down to get breakfast and getting three sausages because the guy who was serving said to me ‘Boy, watching you last night was like going to the theatre.’ I said, ‘Have you ever been to the theatre?’ He said ‘No.’ But these guys who have never been to a theatre and they’re now talking about being entertained with live theatre.”
When he was moved from a high-security prison to an open prison, the prison governor saw Frank’s passion for drama and sent him to work at an opera theatre where his eyes were opened even more to the arts, before doing a private course in drama and theatre, paid for by the prison. After the first stint in prison, Frank did find himself back as he found life hard to adjust to. This time he went to Brixton prison and this is where luck was truly on his side with his acting.
“I came out, I had problems adjusting to life. I was recalled on licence and while I was on licence a theatre company came into the prison and the director cast me in a play called Elmina’s Kitchen in the lead role and they put the play on during Black History Month in Brixton Prison. They invited the writer of the play Kwame (Kwei-Armah), who used to be the director of the Young Vic to come and see the play in Brixton Prison.
“He congratulated me and said to me the raw passion that I brought to the stage was really good, as good as guys in West End and he urged me to carry on in the arts. The director of the theatre company came to court on my behalf and literally begged the judge to release me to go on tour, which I thought was quite hilarious as I was on remand for 25 grand theft. I knew I was going to prison.
“Amazingly, the judge agreed and I’ve never been back to prison and that was 20-odd years ago. It changed the whole trajectory of my life.”
Since then Frank has starred in numerous plays and written a few too. He’s won awards for his writing and in 2021 put on his first one-man show that was about his life story. He asked the question, ‘can you be born into crime?’
With it being Black History Month, Frank talks about what the month feels like for him. He said: “It’s horrible that they just try to squeeze everything into this one month. You can’t squeeze black history into one month. But, again, we’ve just got to be thankful for the crumbs. That’s always been the case.”
However, he did see some positives and had a suggestion for a change to the month. Frank said: “It (Black History Month) gives exposure to lots of people who wouldn’t otherwise get exposed for their work. So maybe it should be called black exposure, change it to Exposure rather than Black History Month, because history is ongoing and doesn’t stop just for one month. So I just think maybe It should just change its name.”
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