Tag Archives: Giles Thomas

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

LORD OF THE FLIES

★★★

Chichester Festival Theatre

LORD OF THE FLIES

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★

“It grips with urgency at its best, drifts and confuses at its weakest”

William Golding’s Lord of the Flies remains one of the most unsettling explorations of human behaviour. Nigel Williams’s 1995 stage adaptation brings the novel’s familiar story of boys stranded on an island into sharp relief, and Anthony Lau’s new production reframes it through stripped-back staging and a series of meta-theatrical touches. The result is uneven, at times thrilling, at others frustrating but never without interest.

The evening begins not with the boys’ arrival but with two stagehands hoovering the bare stage. When the house manager hands Piggy (Alfie Jallow) a sheet of trigger warnings to read aloud, the fourth wall is already gone. It is a playful yet unsettling opening, reminding the audience of the artifice before the story has even begun. Georgia Lowe’s set is pared back to black flight cases representing the trunks that fell from the sky when the boys’ plane crashed. The backstage area is exposed, also painted black, with rubber mats stretched across the thrust. There is no attempt to suggest a lush island, beautiful but dangerous. Instead the stage feels stark, industrial and alien.

The soundscape by Giles Thomas is striking, shifting from pounding music that vibrates through the auditorium to complete silence. In these moments the boys’ breathing and the hum of the lights are uncomfortably audible. Matt Daw’s lighting alternates between dazzling brightness, exposing every detail, and shadowed moments that heighten tension and allow the boys’ fear, viciousness and isolation to take hold. Fire is represented by hand-held smoke machines, a simple but effective image.

At the centre of the story are five more developed characters: Ralph (Sheyi Cole, making his professional debut), Piggy, Jack (Tucker St Ivany), Roger (Cal O’Driscoll) and Simon (Ali Hadji-Heshmati). The rest of the company blend into their factions, slipping convincingly between roles as loyalists and hunters. The cast vary in age, all young adults, some more convincing as schoolboys than others. Jack, used to the discipline and authority of the choir, is played with an edge of entitlement, contrasting with Ralph’s more open leadership and Piggy’s marginalised intelligence.

The decision to cast both Ralph and Piggy with Black actors adds a further social dimension, sharpening the sense of exclusion Piggy experiences and subtly shifting the class divide already present in Golding’s story. Jallow is exceptional, capturing both wit and vulnerability, anchoring the play’s moral weight. His awkwardness and honesty make him deeply affecting, and his distinct costume marks him out as different, reinforcing his insecurity. Hadji-Heshmati’s quiet collapse in Act Two, left alone with his fractured thoughts, provides one of the most powerful acting moments of the evening.

Lau’s direction keeps the energy high but sometimes at the expense of clarity. The use of house lights, scene changes in full view, and the cast announcing acts underline the theatrical frame. At times this feels fresh, but it also distances the audience from the emotional heart of the story. The production reaches its peak at the end of Act Two with Simon’s death. Staged with intensity and haunting imagery, it captures the chaos of the boys’ descent into violence. Here the stripped-back design, movement (Aline David) and fight direction (Bethan Clark) come together with real force, creating a sequence that is both shocking and unforgettable. Not all effects are as successful. A piñata, intended to represent the pig, once bashed by the boys spills sweets in a way that feels inconsistent with the production’s stripped-back design and stark atmosphere. Where Simon’s fate resonates, other symbolic choices jar, leaving the evening uneven in tone.

Too often the pacing falters. Scenes stretch, direction loses focus and the power dissipates. Themes and emotional beats become repetitive. The second death, though still disturbing, does not match the earlier high point.

This Lord of the Flies has moments of brilliance, particularly in its sound, its bold design choices and in Jallow’s performance, but the whole is inconsistent. It grips with urgency at its best, drifts and confuses at its weakest.



LORD OF THE FLIES

Chichester Festival Theatre

Reviewed on 30th September 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

TOP HAT | ★★★★ | July 2025
THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR | ★★★★ | May 2025
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE | ★★★½ | January 2025
REDLANDS | ★★★★ | September 2024

 

 

LORD OF THE FLIES

LORD OF THE FLIES

LORD OF THE FLIES