Savage (Selvagem) - a raw and personal journey into queer childhood, trauma, and healing -  is a solo theatrical performance, an autofiction that dives into Felipe Haiut’s personal memories and the world of pop culture. Through a sensitive and engaging narrative, the play reflects on the experiences of queer childhood in the construction of gender identity and questions the social structures that shape masculinity.

DJ Brasileirinha will warm things up before the show and keep the vibe going afterward – so we can enjoy some good drinks and celebrate life the Brazilian way!

Savage (Selvagem) — a journey back to wild childhood — will be performed on June  26-27, 2025 at 6 PM at Filmkunstbar Fitzcarraldo, on Reichenberger Straße 133, Berlin. The play will be performed in Portuguese with English subtitles.

Tickets can be purchased here.

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Mateus Furlanetto (MF): How did the play Savage (Selvagem) come to life?

Felipe Haiut (FH): I created it during a workshop. I realized I was still relating to the world through trauma. I thought: maybe that child I was holds the answer to a different way of living. But when I looked back, I found a lot of violence. I couldn’t be myself. I used to pray not to be queer. On TV, queers were jokes played by straight white men. It was a form of erasure.

It began with my story, but it’s no longer just mine. Every time I perform, people come up after and share their own memories—their first kiss, their first slap. It becomes a collective memory. First it was a text, then a play, and now a film. I wanted to mark that queer childhood exists.

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MF: How did your family respond?

FH: They're in the play. I started by asking them, “What would you say to this child today?” In Brazil, my father even performed with me. We danced together. He twerked with me during a song I wrote that says, “Everybody was a queer child.” It was a moment of reconciliation. After that, I could walk into my grandmother’s house as my full self. That was new.

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MF: You’ve mentioned the political context in Brazil. How does that intersect with your work?

FH: In Brazil, the far right uses childhood as a political tool. Bolsonaro rose to power promising to “protect children,” which often meant attacking queer expression. Before him, there was a scandal involving a queer museum exhibit showing a painting of a boy dancing—made by a queer artist about his own childhood. That became a target. My play uses the word “savage” provocatively, to reclaim what was once used to erase us.

MF: What was it like performing the play outside Brazil?

FH: I thought non-Brazilian audiences wouldn’t get it. I reference things like Axé music, really specific stuff. But the opposite happened. In Portugal, some Italians related the music to Laura Pausini. In Berlin, people connected through their own memories of feeling different. Even if the cultures are different, the emotional core is the same— queer people everywhere have had to hide parts of themselves.

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MF: How does the performance space affect the experience?

FH: Whether I perform in a small room, a theatre, or a gay bar, the intimacy remains. In Rio de Janeiro I performed for 350 people in a historic drag venue in Brazil, Theater Rival, and it still felt like a ritual. The moment I begin telling the story, something happens — we commune. It’s not about me anymore. It becomes a shared experience.

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MF: How did you know when the story was ready?

FH: The play took a month to write, but in reality, it took 12 years. It came at the end of a long therapy process. There’s a line in the play: “When does this child become a subject?” That became my turning point. I changed a scene from silence to dance — to celebration. That’s when the child in the play becomes an individual. Through joy.

MF: And how did the documentary project begin?

FH: I started filming during the final rehearsals. My dad came to watch, and I wanted to capture that moment. It was the hardest performance I’ve ever done—saying things I had never said before, especially about violence I experienced. But something transformed in him too. He lives in the UK now and started doing theatre at 62.

When people saw the performance they said, “That felt like my story.” I began collecting images of what I call the “savage kids”—queer children before culture, before the norms of masculinity take hold. In Brazil, growing up queer was tough. We couldn’t cross our legs or move our hands “a certain way” without punishment. The violence began at home. That’s where the play starts.

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MF: Did creating this play change you?

FH: Yes. I was searching for the child and I found the adult. Like the Iorubá proverb: “Exu killed a bird yesterday with a stone he threw today.” Savage (Selvagem) helped me become whole. I entered the play in pieces. I left it with integrity.