An exemplar of art as activism and a necessary reminder to not be a silent onlooker in the face of transphobic violence.

In lieu of chicken-or-egg, Burgerz poses an alternative dilemma: “what came first, the burger or the box?” This epitomises Travis Alabanza’s iconic debut show: big ideas, playfully pulling apart a conventional format. After sell-out runs and an international tour, Burgerz returns to the Southbank Centre, a poignant location – we are sat just meters away from Waterloo Bridge, the site where someone shouted “tranny” and threw a burger at the writer-performer, which in-turn influenced the making of this production.

Propping themselves up on Soutra Gilmour’s neon LED-lined kitchen island, Alabanza calls for an audience member to help them cook a burger. What ensues is part cooking-demo, part history lesson, that uses archetypal elements of a burger to unpack the lived experience of trans and non-gender conforming bodies, and the violence it is synonymous with. Alabanza questions how an unmade burger should fit a certain box, as a critique of the arbitrary gender binary. Adding spice becomes a contemplation on cultural appropriation, and the buns are taped onto Alabanza’s chest as they reflect on whether breasts are “something [they] want or something [they] think [they] need.”

The play’s structure is neat – never formulaic, and we are kept on our toes by tonal jumps: poetic, fury-fuelled monologues are offset by laconic banter and sassy quips. When Alabanza asks the assistant if he is a good cook, he responds, “reasonable”, to which Alabanza quickly retorts: “not the first time a white man has got a job without being qualified”. Alabanza is electric and produces riotous laughs with just a flicker of an awkward smile while their hands are firmly wrapped around a meat-mincer.

Most impressive is the way Alabanza cultivates tension, heightened by the live sounds and smells of raw onions and sizzling patties. The power dynamic of inviting a white cisgender male to assist with the show is intriguing, but Alabanza pushes this further asking him what it feels like to be a man and when he last cried. He cycles from threat to ally and then is abruptly and cruelly asked to leave. By the show’s climax, the threat of being targeted, heckled at, made uncomfortable is palpable; layered and intentional – Alabanza masterfully emulates onto the audience the vulnerabilities experienced everyday by the trans community.  

Check out more from Southbank Centre | Hackney Showroom | Find out more about Travis Alabanza|
| See more Off/Stage Review Bytes on IG |