Review: RON
[Riverside Studios || June 13th to July 5th 2026 || 60m]
Emblazoned in capital letters on the promotional poster for Ted Walliker’s one-man show, just above a declaration that “this is not stand-up”, is its monosyllabic title: RON. Little else is revealed. Before the show starts, a single microphone stands beneath a spotlight in the centre of a stage as eerie welcome music plays. Then, a young man in a crumpled, ill-fitting two-piece suit that he appears to have borrowed from his father shuffles forward and stumbles over a couple of excruciatingly awkward and poorly delivered gags. It might not be stand-up but it certainly resembles it, albeit in a rather unheimlich manner. At least, that is, until it doesn’t.
What follows is a celebral, unpredictable 60-minute monologue, part-Lynch and part-Tarantino, that is tinged with a very specific and nicely observed form of queer sadness. As his initial attempts at stand-up flounder, Walliker, in character as Tony, decides instead to regale the audience with a gruesome tale of kidnap, murder and cannibalism involving his dirt-eating childhood friend (and crush) Mike, the Mafia, and fast-food chain mascot Ronald McDonald. As Tony’s monologue veers out of control, it becomes apparent that he is hiding something, not just from the audience but from himself, and that all of this has far less to do with potential ‘jestercide’ than it does with a desperate yearning for validation.
As the co-director, writer, producer and star of the piece, Walliker gives himself quite the task here but he is spirited and engaging, monologuing with a boundless, wide-eyed energy that captures the audience’s attention as he keeps them guessing with his tangents and occasional fourth-wall and character breaks. There’s an element of Stewart Lee in how the act of stand-up itself becomes a key component of the gag, and Walliker does a solid job of playing with the form while also adhering to its most basic and recognisable principles. As such, as the show becomes increasingly unhinged, what holds it together is the sense that this is, for all of his protestations to the contrary, just a stand-up comedian trying to work through some trauma.
Littered through the monologue are a series of jokes, some silly - “there was barely anywhere to stand, except the floor” being a personal favourite - and some profound, and though a number of them get lost in the sheer speed of it all, Walliker’s giddiness and use of the minimalist space, which feels liminal in his hands, makes for an experience that cleverly treads a fine line between the heartfelt and the absurd. All of the hyper violent twists and turns are told to us as mere matters of record, as though the narrative beats, far from being a chronicle of insane acts of criminality, are the mundane and rational actions of two friends enjoying each other’s time and company, which heightens how bizarre it all is.
Given the scope and ambition of what he is trying to achieve, Walliker sometimes has a tendency to overwrite the material and the formal experimentation doesn’t always work. In some ways it is reminiscent of a pre-Fringe work-in-progress in that it feels a little unedited, and although this does contribute to the sense of chaos and the idea of a stand-up comedian spiralling before our very eyes, it also feels as though Walliker is trying to cram too much into a one-hour show, and so our ability to get to properly know him is neutered. Perhaps he needs to either extend the runtime so that the jokes (and the audience) have more space to breathe or kill a few darlings so that those that survive can be better developed.
Did my friend David and I choose to trek all the way to Hammersmith to see this because we saw an advert for it on Instagram and thought Walliker was hot? Mind your own business. Regardless, am I glad we did? Absolutely. Though it is, admittedly by design, messy, and though it isn’t quite as tight or controlled as it perhaps needs to be, RON is an ambitious and exciting show that is brimming with promise. Walliker’s performance is excellent and there’s a real vigour to how he throws himself into the telling of this story which, beneath all of the bloodletting and flesh-eating, has a surprising depth to it, and the monologue itself is full of surprises.
Tickets for RON are available here.