Bold claim: one man on stage rewrites the entire landscape of modern theatre. Jack Holden’s performance in Kenrex delivers just that—and then some. This rewritten piece preserves all the core facts and key details, while speaking with a fresh cadence that’s clear, inviting, and easy to follow for beginners.
Kenrex, a remarkable true-crime theatre piece, was first staged at Sheffield in October and later captured London’s imagination with a wave of sold-out performances. Now relocated to The Other Palace for a winter run, the production promises to expand its audience without diluting its essence. The show centers on the infamous Ken Rex McElroy, a domineering figure who terrorized Skidmore, Missouri, during the late 1970s and early 1980s. It blends twists, local perspectives, and a sense of looming danger—elements that listeners familiar with true-crime podcasts will recognize—yet the format is strictly theatre, not a podcast transcript brought to life.
What makes Kenrex extraordinary is Holden’s solo performance: he embodies every character—Ken, the wife he manipulates, an FBI agent, a sharp-witted attorney, and more—while guitarist John Patrick Elliott provides live accompaniment. Holden crafts distinct voices, postures, and mannerisms for each figure, relying on vocal nuance and physicality rather than costume changes. The result is a minimalist stage that compels the audience to fill in the blanks, creating a vivid, immersive experience.
Holden recalls that the show’s popularity surged through word of mouth once it hit London, with audiences feeling a strong urge to share the experience. Although the design is highly technical—sound, lighting, and a carefully structured soundscape—the heart of the production remains pure theatre, and the move to a larger space only amplifies its impact.
The genesis of Kenrex traces back to Holden and co-creator Ed Stambollouian, who searched for a compelling true-crime narrative suitable for the stage. They discovered the Skidmore story online and found it irresistible: a tale that interrogates justice, morality, and how ordinary people can commit extraordinary acts when circumstances demand it. The plot unfolds as the town gradually resists Ken Rex McElroy’s control, culminating in a pivotal shift where the community decides enough is enough.
A standout element is Holden’s portrayal: with the town’s population around 400, he embodies roughly 20 residents, each with a distinct accent, vocal quality, and posture. He emphasizes that the show’s success hinges on the audience’s willingness to imagine and infer, making the experience actively participatory rather than a passive viewing.
Even as the production moves to a bigger venue with added lighting and sound cues, Holden asserts that the core show remains intact. The performance is still supported by Elliott’s lively Americana music, which enhances the atmosphere and helps sell the illusion of a larger world within a minimalist stage.
The show’s development has been a long arc: seven years of work culminated in a demanding rehearsal phase that lasted four weeks. The amplitude of the characters—Ken Rex’s distinctive stance and voice, for instance—was designed to be crystal clear within a stripped-back aesthetic, ensuring the narrative remains accessible even as it grows in scale.
Holden likens the experience to a high-wire act: from the opening moment, he sustains a multi-faceted presence as ringmaster, performer, and narrator, all in one. The initial public reception was uncertain, given the show’s unconventional length and format, but the moments that landed confirmed the show’s grip on audiences. A highlight occurs in the second half: a tense phone call at the bar, where the audience senses that a key witness’s fate hinges on what Ken Rex hears. The suspense is palpable, the kind of moment that makes the audience gasp and lean forward in unison. It’s proof that strong storytelling can thrive on minimalism and precise timing.
A lot of Holden’s craft happens off the script, with vocal gymnastics and the ability to inhabit wildly different voices. He attributes his clownish, larger-than-life style to influences like Jim Carrey and Robin Williams, blended with a personal history of accents and facial transformations. He notes that his path began in Tonbridge, progressed through the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, and rose through early opportunities with War Horse and the Royal Shakespeare Company. His breakthrough came with Cruise, a one-man show about a young gay man facing HIV at the end of life, which earned Olivier recognition and solidified his one-man-band signature.
Beyond Kenrex, Holden is also shaping new work. He’s involved in The Line of Beauty at the Almeida, an adaptation of Alan Hollinghurst’s novel about a young man negotiating desire, politics, and AIDS-era Britain. He describes the project as a Faustian exploration of truth-telling under conservatism and crisis—a blend of historical heft and theatrical flair that suits his strengths as a creator-performer.
When asked about his tendency to tackle ambitious projects, Holden acknowledges a preference for challenging material, but stresses that collaboration remains central to his practice. The pandemic era pushed him to explore solo formats, yet he remains eager to collaborate and continue growing alongside others.
With space for more ambitious ventures on the horizon, Holden hints that Kenrex could travel to the United States, and he’s already developing additional true-crime theatre projects with Ed Stambollouian, including another undisclosed British true-crime piece and a separate intriguing project he will perform. He encapsulates his philosophy with a bold, almost cinematic line: space, he says, is the final frontier for theatre.
Are you convinced by the allure of one actor, a single stage, and a towering true-crime story, or do you prefer more traditional, multi-actor productions? Do you think this minimalist approach enhances or diminishes the impact of real-life cases on stage? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
