Gravy (KXT on Broadway) ★★★★

Written by Gemma Burwell. World Premiere. Presented by Merak. KXT on Broadway. 18-28 Feb, 2026.

Stunningly visceral and intriguingly surreal, Gravy is a distraught dissection of mother-daughter relationships and the oppressive force of the male gaze.

Young Trisha (Meg Hyeronimus) and Mummy (Deborah Jones) are in a bathtub. Trisha is washing her mother, intensely commenting on her body as she does so. Trisha herself is becoming more aware of her own physicality, dreaming of a boy who might one day touch her and take her away. But they are in a room with no doors or windows and can’t remember how long they’ve been there. All they know is that god is watching.

If you’re a fan of the work of playwrights like Sarah Kane, Martin Crimp or Edward Bond, then Gemma Burwell’s debut should excite you. Gravy is a dark, menacing abstraction sprinkled with moments of absurd humour, but always grounded in a truthful exploration of human themes.

In the programme notes, Burwell talks about Gravy as an exploration of the male gaze’s influence on women, even when no men are present — how women can revert to a performative femininity they’ve internalised. But that wasn’t my first instinct when watching it. I saw the inner workings of a young woman’s mind as she steps out of the shadow of her mother’s influence (a Jungian Demeter/Persephone dynamic, or an example of matrophobia — the fear of becoming one’s own mother). Layer in the unseen masculine influences — the potential boyfriend, the judgemental god — and you get a psychological cauldron of ideas forming a potent brew.

As if this mordant thematic mix wasn’t enticing enough, director Saša Ljubović brings an elegance and clarity of vision to the staging that is bracing. A single bathtub in a black space — evocative and menacing. Add in atmospheric trickery from the immersive sound design by Milo McLaughlin & Zsa Zsa Gyulay (look, I love sound design, I will always pay attention to it), cutting lighting by Frankie Clarke, and some deceptively simple design by James Smithers, and you’ve got a near-perfect “black box” execution.

And water! I’ve not seen this much water on an independent stage in years (since the last time I saw Afterglow — coming soon to Sydney). The water becomes a character in its own right, an unpredictable scene partner adding layers of sound and physical constraint. It is unsettling — a symbol of purity and of dank dangers. (On a practical note, don’t worry — there’s no “splash zone”. You should be safe in the front row.)

Floating above all of this are two performers giving otherworldly yet grounded performances of pain, rage, twisted affection and persuasion. Both Hyeronimus and Jones (that sounds like a crime procedural on BritBox — would totally watch) rise to the tenor of the show, straddling the sometimes circular dialogue and abstract rhythms to deliver a complex 60 minutes of drama.

Gravy will not be to everyone’s liking. But for lovers of complex work, this is a beauty. Much like Gia Ophelia before it, Gravy has a short run — as part of KXT’s more experimental summer programme — but the production values of a much larger show. This is gorgeous, disturbing, thought-provoking theatre which, I’ll be honest, gave the neat-freak in me the total icks, but thrilled the theatre nerd in me.