Creators: Daniel Kok and Luke George
Bunny, created by artists Daniel Kok and Luke George, sits somewhere between theatre, performance art and living sculpture. Over two uninterrupted hours, Kok and George tie and untie themselves and audience members in increasingly elaborate configurations of rope, creating a series of striking images, variant in their tenderness, that are visually striking but less successful at sustaining dramatic interest.
The production’s strongest element is undoubtedly its visual design. Rope is transformed into intricate costumes that have the ability to reshape and pose the performers’ bodies, producing tableaux that feel carefully composed and genuinely distinctive. There is a quiet precision to the work, and the performers’ skill in Shibari is never in doubt.
The intimacy that develops throughout the evening is more surprising. While the show’s subject matter suggests that connection will emerge through the acts of bondage, the most affecting moments come elsewhere. Conversations shared quietly between performers and audience members create a sense of trust and vulnerability that feels far more meaningful than many of the knots being tied around them.
Yet for all its visual ingenuity, Bunny rarely evolves beyond its central premise. The experience feels closer to visiting an art gallery than attending a live performance. Partly because the action is so static, but also because the production never quite finds a way to use liveness to build upon its initial idea. The images change, but the experience remains largely the same.
The opening moments prove unexpectedly representative of what follows. George begins by tying their own legs before inviting an audience member to bind their arms, all while long rope braids hanging from their head repeatedly get in the way. The image is compelling, but it also introduces a feeling that persists throughout the evening: that everything is being made more difficult than it needs to be. But that difficulty also appears to be the point.
There is a sense that the creators want the audience to sit with repetition, slowness and discomfort rather than seek conventional theatrical rewards. Whether that proves rewarding will depend on an individual’s appetite for durational work. With little dialogue, no discernible narrative and only the faintest sense of progression, two hours begins to feel like a considerable ask. There is enough beauty and intrigue here to justify the experiment, but not quite enough development to sustain it.
At its best, Bunny creates images of remarkable elegance and moments of genuine human connection. As a piece of live theatre, however, it remains more interesting to admire than to fully engage with.
Runs until 6 June as part of the Queer East Festival 2026
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
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6
