My Life With Kenneth Williams
In a climate where venues continue to close at an worrying pace, it’s always good to attend a press night at a theatre I haven’t previously visited, whether that be on the somewhat grander scale of the Soho Theatre Walthamstow or The Emerald Theatre on the banks of the River Thames, or even in a more compact space above a pub. It was at the latter that I found myself on this visit to The Circle And Star, a great little sub-eighty seat theatre space above the Horseshoe Pub in Hampstead. Whilst the space has a long history as a theatre (it having been the home for the Pentameters Theatre for 57 years), it has been run by a new team since late 2025 under the artistic direction of Steve Furst, (Fun Fact: As an actor himself, Steve starred in one of my all-time favourite adverts for Heinz Beans, ‘To Good To Leave Behind’). As much as this was all going to be a new experience for me, parts of tonights one-man show, My Life With Kenneth Williams, were not quite as new for the writer/performer, David Benson who first found himself stepping into Williams shoes in 1996 at the Edinburgh Fringe, where the show was met with critical acclaim. Fast forward 30 years and we find Benson returning to the stage to give the audience an intimate portrait of the man himself, a tribute of sorts performed just a few weeks shy of what would have been Williams 100th birthday. (He died in 1988)
The stage is an uncomplicated affair, a single wooden chair isolated against a black draped background, a visual metaphor perhaps for how isolated the extravagant subject of tonights show had himself felt in later life, trapped by a persona as much loved by his admirers as it was loathed by its creator. However, when Benson slips effortlessly into replicating all of Williams grandiose gestures and facial contortions the stage comes instantly alive and, as Williams, Benson is more than able to fill the space where a set would otherwise have been.
I must confess I was always fairly ambivalent to Kenneth Williams as an actor, as well as the Carry On films that made his name, but I had became fascinated by him later in life when his diaries were posthumously released, a source also used for the fascinating biopic, Fantabulous in 2006, where Michael Sheen made his own memorable interpretation of Williams, depicting him as a waspish and tortured man, deeply troubled by his sexuality, declining health and inability to kerb his flamboyant demeanour that remained his ‘go to’ having become the darling of the chat show later in life. David Benson effortlessly manages to capture every nuance of this larger than life character, the flaring nostrils and unmistakeable camp asides bringing Williams uncannily back to life.
Upon hearing that there would be an intermission, I couldn’t help but wonder if so much Williams might possibly be a bit too much Williams. It’s something that may have also crossed Benson’s mind as the first half is shrewdly dedicated to the actors own journey of how Kenneth Williams entered the young Benson’s orbit, a story which is totally fascinating in itself, and engagingly told by the effusive Benson who, as a 15 year old boy, wrote a short story for a competition, the prize of which was to have it read out by Williams on the then famous children’s television programme Jackanory. Rather than receiving praise and adulation from his piers for writing the wining entry however, the event led to homophobic bullying and the realisation by Benson that he was in fact himself gay.
Unsurprisingly the audience for tonights performance were mostly of ‘a certain age’, the majority of Williams performances now mostly considered to be of ‘another time’, not that it makes him anything less than a fascinating character who is brought so vividly back to life by Benson’s affectionate but none-the-less critical performance. However, many of the references that litter the first half of the show are more than likely to be completely lost on anyone born after 1975 as, much like comedian Peter Kay, the humour before the intermission relies heavily on the nostalgic recognition of the idiosyncrasies of a time gone by, (News reader Reginald Bosenquet becoming Benson’s equivalent to Kay’s ‘garlic bread’), but for those in the know, this is a warmingly nostalgic and often hilariously funny routine told by a charming raconteur. I took Benson a little while to find his rhythm at the beginning, the performance I saw being only his second preview of the new show, but once he found his groove he had the audience in the palm of his hand, proving as adept at morphing into Williams as he was at bringing a whole supporting cast back to life. This included the likes of John Le Mesurier, Arthur Lowe, Frankie Howard, Will Hay, Eric Morecambe and Stan Laurel. (If you don’t know the names you’ll just have to trust me at just how incredibly accurate these impressions were).
Things change gear for the second half, which is given entirely over to Williams, shown in several set-piece vignettes, the most impressive of which finds Williams out for dinner with four friends, (assuming Williams was actually capable of letting people get close enough to him to consider themselves true friends). It’s a tour de force in how much can be created from so little as, still in the somewhat barron setting of this blackbox theatre, Benson transports us to the restaurant where guests, waiter and even adoring fans are conjured up from nowhere, bringing the whole episode vividly to life.
Do you need to be a Kenneth Williams fan to get the most out of ‘My Life With Kenneth Williams’? Well, only in so far as too fully admire David Benson’s skills as an impeccable impersonator, but there is also plenty to enjoy in the more general themes brought to the show of luck, fame, insecurity and those sliding-door moments that will change the course of your life forever.
★ ★ ★ ★
My Life With Kenneth Williams is on tour across the UK until 30th April. Find dates here.
review: Simon J. Webb