What an astonishing performance. In a kind of true-crime version of Under Milk Wood, Jack Holden evokes the life of small-town Skidmore, Missouri, in an audacious display of technical skill. In the published script, he and his co-writer Ed Stambollouian say Kenrex could be performed by a cast of any size but, for its premiere, Holden alone has taken on a dozen named characters and sundry minor roles. His transitions between them – sharp, assured and physically precise – are breathtaking. He demands to be seen.
Whether the story he tells merits such virtuosity is a moot point, but it is unquestionably a fascinating case. In 1981, Ken Rex McElroy was gunned down by at least two of his fellow townsfolk. Despite a crowd of more than 40 being present, none could identify a shooter. Their reason? McElroy’s decade-long campaign of suspected criminality, ranging from arson to assault, intimidation to rape. He had been taken to court 21 times but, thanks to a skilful attorney, never once convicted. The people had had enough.
Holden and Stambollouian make a belated attempt to add gravitas with a debate about the nature of justice, but the appeal of Kenrex is not deep. Its strength is as a Beowulf-style tale of overcoming the monster. Portrayed by Holden as a broken-backed ogre, his face featureless, his voice a growling sub-bass, McElroy is an ever-looming threat. In an isolated farming town miles from the nearest police station, he is seemingly impossible to defeat. He is everything we fear.
With its eager lawyers and surly townsfolk, Kenrex grips like a true-crime podcast. Animated by the incidental detail of radio DJs, quirky local people and rural living, it compels us to watch even when we know what is coming.
Holden’s performance is only one of the highlights of Stambollouian’s excellent production. Most apparent is John Patrick Elliott’s live score, its loops and echoes bubbling up into acoustic alt-country songs, more hard-edged than romantic. Impressive too are the sound design by Giles Thomas and lighting by Joshua Pharo, both matching Holden in speed and invention. They turn the set by Anisha Fields, with its blank billboard and spinning tape machine, from the bucolic to the gothic.
At Playhouse, Sheffield, until 16 November
