SLOW; moving or operating, or designed to do so, only at a low speed
BURLESQUE; an absurd or comically exaggerated imitation of something
Peer into the dressing room and who knows what characters you’ll find — a washed-up diva refusing the spotlight; a Hollywood leading man strutting his stuff; a punk poet waxing lyrical; other-worldly creatures tying themselves in knots; or maybe, if you’re lucky, a real, ordinary human.
Freya Silas Finch’s A Slow Burlesque is a deeply personal journey through identity, belonging, and transformation. At just 60 minutes, the show is compact but impactful, packing a whirlwind of offbeat humour, physicality, and introspection into a performance that is at once perplexing and thought-provoking. The production, with its quirky narrative and absurdist costumes, leans heavily into themes of queerness and gender nonconformity. It’s a show that clearly resonates with its intended audience—one that finds joy in the rebellion against societal expectations.
Photo credit: Andi Crown
Freya masterfully plays with gender in their performance. Over the course of the show, Freya embodies several distinct characters: a cabaret host and MC, a washed-up diva clinging to the spotlight, a swaggering Hollywood leading man, and a punk poet, a creature experiencing evolution, among others. Each of these personas represents a facet of their exploration of identity, one that is both humorous and deeply vulnerable. The transitions between characters are calculated, with Freya displaying confidence in every movement, making even the most exaggerated personas feel authentic. These characters are not just personas—they are metaphors for the struggles in the journey of self-understanding.
One of the central themes of A Slow Burlesque is the exploration of gender identity, particularly the feeling of not fitting into traditional gender categories. Freya’s performance portrays this liminality through exaggerated physicality, playful costumes, and moments of introspection. The show is divided into distinct acts, with the first exploring body dysphoria of early years. Freya’s portrayal is both comical and tragic as they present the dissonance between how society views their body and how they feel within it. There’s a visible discomfort in their portrayal of themselves as being “in limbo,” caught between a desire to be part of a community and a deep-rooted fear and shame in the toxicity and misogyny of that same community.
Photo credit: Andi Crown
The second act dives deeper into these feelings of discomfort, as Freya continues to push the boundaries of gender performance. Here, their storytelling becomes more meta, with Freya directly engaging with the audience, critiquing the very show they are performing. They question the lack of a clear narrative and dissect the costumes. It’s a bold choice that blurs the line between performer and spectator, creating a sense of uncertainty that mirrors the themes of the show.
There’s a palpable sense of uncomfortableness throughout the performance being turned into something playful and rebellious. The lack of a traditional narrative story and the absurdity of the costume design, with its oversized elements and constant state of dressing and undressing, reflects a complete rejection of societal norms. It’s a deliberate non-conformance, an assertion of Freya’s refusal to fit into any one box, and a refusal to feel bad about it. This playful rebellion, where nothing is symmetrical or straightforward, invites the audience to share in the feeling of displacement, of constantly shifting identities and the discomfort and opportunities that come with that. The opportunity to be reborn.
Photo credit: Andi Crown
While the show is undeniably engaging in its offbeat style, it’s clear that A Slow Burlesque is not designed for a mainstream audience. The performance is tailored for the queer community, and it resonates deeply with those who share Freya’s experiences of marginalisation and self-discovery. The rapturous applause, laughter, and standing ovation at the end of the show confirm that this is a story and an experience that is both familiar and empowering for many in the audience. However, those outside of this lived experience may find it more difficult to fully connect with the deeper emotional layers of the show.
The production is undeniably well-crafted. Despite its seemingly chaotic appearance, where costumes and set pieces look haphazardly thrown together, it becomes clear that every element has been meticulously thought out. Each object on stage serves a purpose, contributing to the overall message of the performance. The lighting, audio, and props are all used effectively to guide the audience’s attention and keep the energy high. Freya’s physicality is a key element in this; their movements are precise, using every inch of the stage and even moving through the audience, making the performance feel immersive.
Photo credit: Andi Crown
One of the most striking aspects of A Slow Burlesque is its absurdist costume design. The show features a parade of oversized, abnormal, and asymmetrical costumes that reinforce the idea of gender nonconformity. Freya is constantly in a state of undress and redress, a symbolic gesture reflecting the fluidity of identity and the rejection of rigid gender binaries. The costumes are playful and out-of-proportion, adding to the overall sense of disorientation that permeates the show. This aesthetic decision, like so much of the performance, underscores the theme of exploration—Freya is not conforming to any one version of themselves but is constantly shifting, transforming, and evolving.
The audience interaction in A Slow Burlesque is another highlight. Freya is quick-witted and confident, reacting with ease to unexpected interruptions and engaging directly with the audience at several points throughout the show. This not only adds an extra layer of humour but also makes the performance feel more intimate, as if we are all part of Freya’s exploration of self (even if we may not fully understand it for 2-3 years). The fourth-wall-breaking moments, where Freya becomes a critic of their own performance, are particularly effective in drawing the audience into the meta-narrative. It’s as if Freya is inviting us to question the very nature of performance, identity, and belonging alongside them.
Photo credit: Andi Crown
Ultimately, A Slow Burlesque is a bold and deeply personal work that will resonate most strongly with those who share Freya’s experiences of queerness and gender nonconformity. It’s a show that celebrates the absurd, the non-conforming, and the in-between, offering a space for those who don’t fit into traditional categories to see themselves reflected on stage. For me, however, as a cisgender man who enjoys the more formulaic structure of mainstream entertainment, the show felt alienating at times. The humour, the costumes, and the narrative all spoke to experiences that I haven’t lived, and while I can appreciate the craft and passion behind the performance, I can’t say it fully connected with me on a personal level.
But perhaps that’s the point. A Slow Burlesque is not a show designed for everyone—it’s a show that revels in its specificity, offering a voice to those who have often felt voiceless. It’s messy, it’s playful, it’s uncomfortable, and for many in the audience, it’s a powerful affirmation of their identity.
A Show Burlesque is being performed at Basement Theatre from 03-19 October, 2024
Content Warnings: Partial Nudity
Trigger Warnings: References to gender dysphoria, recounts an instance of physical assault/violence.