Tag Archives: Daniel Outis

KENREX

★★★★★

The Other Palace

KENREX

The Other Palace

★★★★★

“a wickedly clever, propulsive and wildly entertaining piece of theatre”

I was lucky enough to catch the culmination of Jack Holden and John Patrick Elliott’s journey with Cruise a couple of years ago at the Apollo, a one-man ode to Soho in the 80s at the height of the AIDS crisis. Blending live music (performed onstage by Elliott) with sharply drawn characters, Holden delivered a performance so magnetic it marked him instantly as a force to be reckoned with.

From Soho to Skidmore this time, Kenrex charts a sprawling true-crime scandal centred on Ken Rex McElroy, a bully who terrorised a small Missouri town for over a decade before finally meeting his demise at the hands of the very community he tormented. Though it may share stylistic bones with Cruise, Kenrex elevates the form entirely: a breathless, precision-engineered piece of theatre powered by a performer who makes a one-man show feel improbably, impossibly full.

Holden and Ed Stambollouian’s script — with Stambollouian also directing — is a marvel in itself: razor-tight, inventive and packed with narrative confidence. Its interview framing device keeps the story humming with momentum. Despite featuring more characters than a Shakespearean history, Holden snaps between voices and physicalities with such agility you stop registering he’s alone up there. He’s clearly relishing every second, scattering standout moments like confetti: a lawyer sequence pitched somewhere between legal argument and musical number, and an early description of the titular McElroy so quietly forensic it becomes a transformation in real time.

Act Two maintains the pace effortlessly. There’s a nimble recap that’s stitched together through radio static and quotations, which sweeps you instantly back into the story without a moment of drag. The imaginative clarity continues until the end: a circle of microphones representing half the town becomes a visual chorus, and a narrowing spotlight isolates Holden as the mayor’s grip on the community falters. It’s smart, expressive stagecraft: everything working in harmony to create the illusion of dozens of people sharing the stage, when in reality it’s just two artists entirely in sync.

Joshua Pharo’s lighting becomes a living part of the storytelling — shifting from concealment to revelation, muddying the edges of a scene one moment and sharpening them the next, always giving Holden something tangible to push against. A spotlight lands on an empty microphone as a gag; police strobes whip the stage into a car-chase fantasia. Meanwhile, Giles Thomas’ sound design, often subtly tucked beneath the live music, does equally vital work in animating Holden’s world: one mic becomes a tinny phone receiver; a tape recorder crackles to life mid-scene, giving Holden yet another texture to play off. It’s phenomenal work from the creative team, constantly making it feel as though Holden is never alone on stage.

The set (Anisha Fields) is used with the same imaginative clarity. A single mic is pulled taut to become a rifle. a short flight of stairs becomes the mayor’s office, a judge’s bench, a small-town café. Holden’s physicality fills in the rest. Elliott’s live score and vocals are woven so subtly he sometimes seems to vanish entirely, only to resurface and steer the emotional temperature of the room. His integration is seamless; he isn’t an accompanist so much as an additional narrative organ.

For all its ingenuity, what lingers about Kenrex — and earns its deserved standing ovation — is the confidence with which the piece tells its story. Nothing is wasted, and the invention never feels like decoration: it’s functional storytelling delivered with theatrical wit, the work of a creative team operating at full command of their tools.

Kenrex is a wickedly clever, propulsive and wildly entertaining piece of theatre. It’s the kind of show that reminds you how expansive solo performance can be when craft, character and design lock together with this much precision. A small-town saga becomes a full-scale epic through nothing but light, sound and one performer who seems able to conjure an entire county out of thin air.



KENREX

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 10th December 2025

by Daniel Outis

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LOVERS ACTUALLY | ★★★ | November 2025
SIT OR KNEEL | ★★★★ | October 2025
LOVE QUIRKS | ★★★ | September 2025
50 FIRST DATES: THE MUSICAL | ★★★★★ | September 2025
SAVING MOZART | ★★★★ | August 2025
THE LIGHTNING THIEF | ★★★ | March 2025

 

 

Kenrex

Kenrex

Kenrex

THE LIAR, THE BITCH AND THE WARDROBE

★★★

Union Theatre

THE LIAR, THE BITCH AND THE WARDROBE

Union Theatre

★★★

“the overall effect is chaotic in a largely positive way”

There are few tasks in theatre more thankless than performing panto to a press-night crowd: a regiment of grey-faced curmudgeons who ration their laughs like wartime sugar and offer all the bounce-back of a soggy mince pie.

Even so, the rambunctious cast of The Liar, The Bitch & The Wardrobe, the adult seasonal panto at the Union Theatre, generate enough camp voltage to send C.S. Lewis spinning like a gigawatt turbine.

And spin he would. Devout Lewis would likely gasp at what writer Joshua Coley has done to his beloved tale, steeped as it is in Christian mythology. Here, heroes Peter (James Georgiou) and Edward (Joe Pieri) are aged up appropriately and reimagined not as brothers but as lovers, recast as the romantic leads of this messy but sweet adventure.

Familiar staples get similarly anarchic makeovers: Mr Tumnus becomes Mr Topless, while Aslan transforms into Arselan, a mythical lion sporting a BBL and the attitude to match. The cast lean into the absurdity with relish — Katie Ball’s multi-rolling is a particular delight, full of sharp physicality and crisp character work — but it’s Tom Duern who consistently walks away with scenes in his back pocket. As resident dame The Tight Bitch, he gurns, pouts, spars with the audience and belts his numbers with aplomb. It’s a performance that knows exactly what show it’s in and how far to push it, even when the crowd doesn’t always return the energy.

As a panto, it arrives armed with all the expected trimmings. There’s pop culture references, (some niche enough that only the terminally online would fully get) audience participation (this writer was hauled onstage for an excruciating dance — which I promise isn’t influencing the score…), and musical numbers that come thick and fast: Beyoncé riffs, Matilda nods, a splash of Defying Gravity, plus rewritten hits from Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan and more. All four performers are capable singers, though the sound mix occasionally betrays them, with vocals swallowed by overly dominant backing tracks.

The material feels at its strongest when it toys with panto convention and then gleefully subverts it. Though a recurring issue is the script’s reluctance to trust its audience: some jokes are glib references rushed through rather than actual punchlines, while others are hammered a beat too long, over-explaining what would have landed better if left to breathe.

Supported by sharp sound design from Josh Mroczynski — whose recurring audio gags escalate beautifully — the cast make the most of what their creative team provides. Sasha Regan’s direction and choreography give the set pieces real lift, while Janet Huckle’s costumes chart the show’s camp excesses with wit and flair. Reuben Speed’s set offers a pleasingly ramshackle playground; at times the panto looks like a hodgepodge hastily stuck together, and the ladder used in one musical number seems borrowed from a decorator’s van, but that scrappiness quickly becomes part of its charm.

There are momentum stumbles, and moments where the script can’t quite keep up with the cast’s gusto, but the overall effect is chaotic in a largely positive way. And for all its rough-and-ready edges, it’s worth remembering that panto is a far slicker business than it pretends to be. Even at their most ramshackle, productions like this rely on tight cues, rapid character swaps and physical comedy that only works with real discipline. The Liar, The Bitch & The Wardrobe is a testament to that craft — both in its brightest moments and in the occasional weak spots that remind you how demanding the form truly is.

Even the dourest critic was laughing and cheering by the finale, which ends in a triumphant burst of queer joy — fitting for a panto that doesn’t so much open the closet door as kick it clean off its hinges.



THE LIAR, THE BITCH AND THE WARDROBE

Union Theatre

Reviewed on 4th December 2025

by Daniel Outis

Photography by Ben Bull


 

Most recent shows reviewed at this venue:

DISPOSABLE | ★★★★★ | November 2025
BLOODY MARY AND THE NINE DAY QUEEN | ★★★½ | October 2025
DEAD MOM PLAY | ★★★ | April 2025
DUDLEY ROAD | ★★ | January 2025
NOOK | ★★½ | August 2024
WET FEET | ★★★★ | June 2024

 

 

THE LIAR

THE LIAR

THE LIAR