In Jamaica, same-sex intercourse is punishable by prison, yet no one went to prison for the violent murder of a gender non-conforming 16-year-old for dressing in women’s clothes. Batty bwoy (‘butt boy’) is a derogatory term in Jamaica for gay men – and the title, too, of this brutally stripped-down solo Norwegian-Jamaican Harald Beharie.

Naked, Beharie crawls on all fours, ferociously shakes his head, vogue walks, athletically runs across the stage, stumbles with demonically outstretched tongue, simulates vomiting, coats his skin with saliva, coughs. There are hints of dancehall dutty wine whirls, or sexy pelvis swaying. The movements are always ambivalent: they range between vulnerable, violent and ecstatic, yet become mechanical and ‘empty’ through numerous repetitions. Beharie breaks the fourth wall by standing close to us, gazing directly; sometimes spectators move aside to avoid physical impact. His ‘batty energy’ is captivating.

Sudden contrasts in movement are amplified by the changing volumes of Ring Van Möbius’s prog-rock sound score. A dark red sculpture – a patchwork of leather and fish skin – dominates the space: a table, a bed, a trampoline, a sacrificial altar…? 

With intentional ambiguity, Beharie makes us question our assumptions about gay men and perhaps even draws out our own subtle forms of prejudice.