Dear reader, in my last days of secondary school I was utterly typecast as ‘the one boy who’d put a dress on for a play’. Not that I’m complaining – as a slightly podgy and profoundly uncool year 11, the experience of having people pay attention to me made for a thrilling departure from the norm. Obviously the practice of men portraying women on the stage as a long and illustrious history; Shakespeare’s plays would have initially been performed by all male casts, with prepubescent boys filling in for a Juliet or an Ophelia.

This practice was often carried out with gay abandon by the English teachers at my single sex school, who took an remarkable pleasure in casting the most ruggedly good looking footballing types as the femme fatale in group readings in classrooms. Getting to dress as a woman on stage was not only enormous fun, but it played an important role in the on going development of my understanding of, and interaction with sexuality. It made me conscious of the ‘acting out’ of masculinity that happened off stage – the intentional and the subliminal, the former of which I was never any good at, but the latter, I began to realise, formed a massive and unanticipated portion of my identity. By building up the persona of the towering and screeching Lady Bracknell, or the saucily conspiratorial nurse, I began to deconstruct some of the assumptions I’d had about my identity, and the role that gender plays within that.

However, in recent months, especially given the increased prevalence and discussion of trans issues, I’ve begun to question the very simple narrative I’d formed with regard to portraying different genders on stage. As a cis person, I have a degree of privilege with regard to my gender, which allows me to stand on stage one minute, portraying a woman, then step off the stage and continue being Matt. Whilst this has been useful for me in exploring and understanding my own gender, I’ve begun to worry that this might actually be damaging to the cultural acceptance of transgender identities.

There is still a sad lack of understanding around LGBTQ issues even in an age where Caitlin Jenner can embrace her identity on the national stage – and a distinct lack of space for trans identities in popular culture. My instinct is that playing other genders can help in the fight for greater equality, but that it needs to be done sensitively – for much more delicate exploration of trans identities in theatre, I strongly recommend you go an see both Cashiered and Binding at the BT this week.

Cashiered is an exciting, bold and pithy piece of new writing from Hannah Greenstreet. Its set during the American civil war and examines the story of transgender soldier Albert J.D. Cashier. The writing effectively relates an easily identifiable narrative – of the right to your gender identity in conflict with the powers that be – a story that resonates today. Bold staging choices make this piece shine with anxiety and suspense. The play begins with a curtain separating the actors and audience, who are only allowed to see the shadows of Albert’s past follow him into his hospital bed. The curtain, once dramatically removed to reveal Albert, weak and powerless, constantly comes back into play to represent the division of his character with society. We constantly get small insights into Albert’s world, understanding his pain at being forced to defend the fact he is the man – and not the woman – he claims to be, only to then get shut out and left as an outsider by the pulling across of the curtain. This dramaturgical strategy, which metaphorically paints the divide between society and transgender people at that time, keeps the audience engaged throughout.

This dark and threatening beginning foreshadows the tragic moroseness of the rest of the play, throughout which we will constantly be reminded of the injustice of Albert’s treatment and condemnation. Combining careful research with vivid insight, Greenstreet’s script definitely has potential in the dialogue and portrayal of characters. Franni Ball’s rendering of Nurse Danby steals the show. She encapsulates the struggle of the generous and caring members of society who try to be understanding towards the fate of transgender people, despite being constantly faced by backlash from those around her. Throughout the play, she stays strong in the face of Sister Baterman, Nurse (Lara Marks), who epitomizes the unempathetic state of mind of the majority towards trans identities. Marks’ ability to switch smoothly between this role and that of army-bully Fred Carter is proof of her skill as an actress, and her presence greatly increases the sharpness and brutality of the play. Luke Martin was convincing in his range of characters, standing head above the others to embody the powerful positions of the Investigator and Sergeant.

The interview scenes when he depicts Reporter Ralph illustrate the role of the media in public humiliation, and how fraught with untruth the public understanding of these issues really was. Thea Keller was faced with an insurmountably difficult role, and the temporal transition experienced in the writing occasionally leaves his characterization feeling a little stilted. To his credit, he manages very effectively to portray the sheer breadth of emotional response experienced by Cashier. The American accents throughout sometimes felt a bit forced, and often I thought the dialogue and manor of speech were not very representative of that during the American civil war. Despite this, the most interesting relationship was that of Albert and Robert (played by Laurence Bialy).

The awkward but sweet conversations between the characters exemplify the confusion experienced by both at the discovery of undemonstrated feelings. The audience is kept in suspense as to whether or not there are any romantic feelings between them. Overall, this was an effective portrayal, evoking the very difficult questions of gender identities. The plot avoided unnecessary twists, and hit home a powerful message with great pathos. I felt outraged at the struggle Albert had to endure in being open about his gender identity, and disgust at society’s treatment of him. Both emotions are what the play was trying to get out of the audience, so in that regard it was definitely a success. Although lacking in some domains, the piece has a great deal of potential and is worth a watch.

★★★★★

Every reviewer probably dreams (secretly) of writing at least one particularly savage review. Some, like A. A. Gill, have even made a career out of it. But, fortunately, this review will not be my A. A. Gill moment. This production of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Phantom of the Opera, put on by Milk and Two Sugars, was simply draw-dropping. Fantastic, sublime, awe inspiring (forgive me if I gush – but as you can probably tell I loved it).

Phantom must be a daunting musical to stage. Lloyd-Webber’s musical score is rightly famous as one of the most famous in the history of musical theatre. The challenge of doing justice to the original, while also making it one’s own, is a large one. Inevitably, the question must always be: can the performance live up to the writing? This production has emphatically lived up to the original.

For this alone much praise must be given to the Director, Sarah Wright, the Musical Director, Callum Spiller, and the Choreographer, Laura Day. Putting such a huge musical on requires a certain amount of courage, making it work requires definite skill. Both were on show here and it is welcome to see something like this come off.

But, of course, the greatest directors are in need of a good cast. One gets the impression that this cast pretty much picked itself, as it is of an unusually high standard for a university performance. Perhaps most impressive was Indyana Schneider – fresh from the Sydney Opera House – as a Carlotta that was at once terrifying and hilarious. Laurence Jeffcoate, who himself has a West End pedigree as a former Oliver at Drury Lane, was admirable as Raoul (though having met his family in the queue I could hardly have said otherwise). Crucially, Charles Styles was excellent as a darkly menacing yet tender Phantom and Rachel Coll’s Chrstine was brought to life by virtue of a beautiful voice. Neither of these parts are in any way easy and both were carried with aplomb.

These were well supported by Josh Blunsden and Adam Carver as very humorous Andre and Firmin (both of whom threatened to steal every scene they were in). They, together with Harry Redish as Piangi offered some light relief which were juxtaposed nicely with more dramatic parts. All this was held together by strong performances from Zoe Firth and Kathy Peacock as well as a well-drilled chorus and Corps de Ballet. Special mention must also be made of the set, which was supremely impressive in its ingenuity.

Of course, as a student production, there were some minor things that didn’t go quite as planned. But really nothing could diminish the strength of this performance, which never dropped in energy and provided many touching moments. This was a show which has been worked on for months, and it showed. A standing ovation was what this cast and crew deserved and the audience did not fail to oblige. It was a fittingly powerful end to a wonderfully powerful evening.