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

★★★½

“Grandage’s direction captures the intoxicating glamour and moral decay of 1980s London”

Should we love people for their beauty, or are people made beautiful through being loved? That is one of the central questions of The Line of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst’s Booker Prize-winning novel, now given its first stage adaptation at the Almeida.

After a seven-year publishing hiatus, Hollinghurst’s 2024 novel Our Evenings reminded readers of his deft treatment of class, race and sexuality in late 20th-century Britain. This adaptation of his 2004 masterpiece, directed by Michael Grandage and adapted by Jack Holden, feels timely again: a period piece that still captures the social anxieties and desires of the present.

The story follows Nick Guest (Jasper Talbot), a young Oxford graduate who moves into the London home of his friend Toby Fedden’s family between 1983 and 1987. The Feddens seem gracious hosts: Gerald (Charles Edwards), a newly minted Tory MP on the up in Thatcher’s Britain, and Rachel (Claudia Harrison), the moneyed, quietly controlling matriarch. Yet beneath their polished hospitality lies an unease—Nick’s sexuality is tolerated rather than embraced, and despite his education and charm, he remains forever an outsider.

The production’s strongest moments come in the first act, contrasting Nick’s initiation into the Feddens’ rarefied world with his tender, complex relationship with Leo (a wonderful Alistair Nwachukwu), his first boyfriend. The class and racial dynamics between them are finely drawn: to the Feddens, Nick is gauche and provincial; to Leo, he represents privilege and aspiration. Their dinner scene at Leo’s family home is the play’s emotional heart, Doreene Blackstock is superb as Leo’s devout Jamaican mother, layering issues of class, race, sexuality and faith with undeniable warmth.

Adam Cork’s sound design brilliantly anchors the production in its era. 80s pop anthems throb through the set, evoking the ecstasy and danger of the decade. Subtler choices are just as effective: a soft echo added to conversations in country estates conjures a chilling sense of distance and grandeur. Christopher Oram’s costumes complete the world—corduroy trousers, baggy shirts, and side ponytails secured with satin scrunchies perfectly capturing the aesthetic of the age.

The play can feel overstuffed. A vast array of characters and subplots race through a decade of shifting politics and private betrayals. Some secondary roles are barely glimpsed, though “Old Pete” (Matt Mella), Leo’s older ex-lover, leaves a lasting impression in just a few minutes on stage.

There are clunky moments: stylised scene transitions, on-the-nose symbolism (a line of cocaine mirroring the “line of beauty”), and some heavy-handed dialogue. And Talbot as Nick feels like a vessel for the audience to view this world rather than a hero: passive, and at times insipidly submissive, forever observing beauty rather than creating it. But Grandage’s direction captures the intoxicating glamour and moral decay of 1980s London, while Arty Froushan’s totally tragic Wani brings a raw vulnerability to the later scenes.

In the end, as the impact of the AIDS pandemic draws closer in and the hypocrisies of wealth and politics are laid bare, Nick’s exile feels inevitable. On the whole this adaptation of The Line of Beauty is a thoughtful, sensuous reflection on love, class and the price of belonging.

Tag Archives: Jack Holden

KENREX

★★★★★

The Other Palace

KENREX

The Other Palace

★★★★★

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