Review: Baklâ

Tongues and abs and crucifixes and crushed papayas all feature in this one man show from writer, director and performer Max Percy. It’s an exploration of his sexuality and personal backstory, interwoven with the violent colonial past of the Philippines. The lithe Percy flips, often literally, between writhing butoh dance, circus rope acrobatics and a mesmerising slippery soap number, where he morphs expertly from coy to kinky before our eyes. 

Power, control and shame crop up in his spliced memories of London queer sex parties or flashbacks to his indigenous Filipino ancestors being forced to abandon their traditional rituals and spiritual practices in favour of Catholicism.

The word baklâ is tagalog for an effeminate or gay man, and he contextualises his out, confident and coquettish onstage persona by dropping in anecdotal lines about the everyday racism and homophobia that he has experienced in the UK and the Philippines as a mixed race kid. Snippets of TV adverts for skin whitening soap or America-fetishising Jolibee fast food restaurants are a glossy reminder of the casual white supremacy that he grew up with, while bamboo whips and safe words show how he has sought out autonomy and boundaries in adulthood.