Kenrex is a startlingly brilliant piece of theatre that sets superlatives flying on all fronts. The riveting acting, the structure of the writing, the stagecraft and unique staging are exceptionally effective, while the slick integration and coordination of complex musical and technical elements are ongoing marvels to behold from start to end.
Incredibly, with just one actor onstage, an entire town is vividly evoked and vibrantly peopled, its many individuals brought convincingly to life – and death – by the tireless, frightening expertise of multi-rolling Jack Holden, who, along with director, Ed Stambollouian also co-wrote the play. Onstage throughout, though not at the forefront, is composer and award-winning musician, John Patrick Elliot, playing original songs and instrumentals live with rich sound input, too, from pre-recorded music parts, dialogue and tapestries of carefully shaped sound effects, incorporating crowds, phones, sirens, vehicles, echoes and overlaps, ranging from soothing through to earbashing.
In two acts, the riveting excitement is based on a real-life drama. It tells the story of Kenrex, aka Kenneth Rex McElroy, a thuggish slob who’s terrorised the small, dirt-poor 1970’s farming community of Skidmore, Missouri over ten bullying, intimidating years. Yet not once has Ken been brought to justice for any theft, assault, arson, rape or abduction, thanks to the Teflon defence of an attorney who slips him through every loophole in the inadequate cogs of the justice system. In 1981, when a fine citizen is shot and left for dead – snap! – at long last the townsfolk are utterly determined justice will be done. But how?
With the audience on just two sides, designer Alisha Fields’ stage space is maximised. A floor of snooker-table green and tall grey walls are dimly lit at first, though, as action progresses, Joshua Phoro’s lighting plays a big role in evoking atmosphere, the effects of a pair of orange truck headlights a real highlight, with strobe and thick smoke kicking in at key moments. Leading to a huge, grey screen and upper-level platform is a mobile gantry stairway, while microphones on stands and banks of lights are everywhere in this 1984 recording studio. A transparent Perspex phone box stands left; a mobile frame waits to be neatly strip-lit in different colours and elegantly choreographed and re-purposed as needed; centre-stage is an ungainly, old tape recorder, its two big, vertical spools turning, while behind a table, set with electronic equipment and old, angle-poise lamp, is musician John Patrick Elliot, percussion, banjo, acoustic and electric guitars ready for use. Now just add the odd chair, judge’s gavel, US flag and mop and bucket.
No video footage or colour appears on the big screen, just chapter headings and credits, a black and white picture of pigs, and streaks of interference at a moment of climax. Good choice. The vivid pictures and characters of Skidmore appear before us purely via Jack Holden’s totally engaging visual and spoken performance, strongly supported by sound technology.
Initially, Holden is prosecution attorney, David Baird, being questioned by the tape’s female voice about the Kenrex case. As David, sturdy narrator of events, his fine, American-accented delivery of evocative descriptions of place and characters is riveting, and as with the other main characters, Ken himself and defence attorney Richard MacFaden, David is strongly defined and portrayed.
Flashback scenes come thick, fast and furious in a show that’s a truly impressive feat of mental and physical energy, stamina, timing and agility as these three main characters jump in and out of split-second dialogues, along with the barman and his wife Ida, grocers Bo Bowencamp and Lois, radio show presenters, Ken’s girl Trina, the mayor, judge and reverend. At one stage, Holden stands more than half a dozen mics in a circle, each representing a character, as he hops back and forth, acting, reacting and speaking as each in turn – sometimes just grunting.
Body language is key, especially as female characters don’t have high-pitched voices and there are no costume changes: all is performed in shirt and trousers with jacket either on or off. Yet there’s rarely confusion. Ken slouches and lumbers, lop-sided and heavy, his deep, rumbling growls and growling rumbles like the snores and snorts of a sleepy bull, whose temper might flare into charge-mode at any moment. A light comic touch is brought to defender Richard McFaden, who rides to Ken’s rescue like a gallant Lone Ranger on a sound-effect stallion, full of shiny-faced flourishes and twirling, show-off, show-host confidence with hints of smug. As upright prosecutor David he’s sincere, straight and honest, firmly trusting the due process of the legal system will ultimately deliver justice and that eye-for-an-eye revenge and retribution is never ever right, a moral stance he puts before us at the end.
Excellent work from movement director, Sarah Golding, ensures smooth, slick movement about stage and stairs that lends full impact to the myriad dynamic interactions and quick-fire dialogues, with elegant, dancing footwork employed as Holden rolls the neatly-lit door-frame to new locations.
Keeping all feet tapping, delighting the ear, alarming and exciting the emotions, Elliot’s soundscape of songs and instrumentals also plays a big role in evoking atmosphere. From the Bluegrass banjo of radio-station and Punkin Dance to dreamy, tuneful, acoustic guitar folk, reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel through to shushing cymbals and drumbeats and on into full-on explosions of electric guitar wailings and climactic cacophony, contrast and nuance are nicely maintained and, at times, silence reigns or tension builds via heartbeats or simple clicks.
All comes full circle as Holden, via attorney David, has us question the morality of different versions of justice, and possibly muse, too, on the fact that terrible, true crimes, so popular today as TV dramas, become nothing more than exciting entertainment with the passage of time.
The delicious combining of one-man drama and music with a generosity of technology brings to mind Sarah Snook’s award-winning, one-woman triumph in A Picture of Dorian Gray, though it’s primarily visual technology at the fore in Wilde’s work as Snook’s multi-role acting integrates with pre-recoded videos and live camerawork. Holden’s multi-role acting in Kenrex, on the other hand, integrates primarily with choreographies of extensive audio output and neat lighting.
A gripping play, excitingly delivered.
Eileen Caiger Gray
