I, Joan, which just opened at the Globe Theater in London, plunges us into the life of 17-year-old Joan of Arc, the 15th-century peasant girl who claimed to be divinely chosen to lead the French army during the Hundred Years’ War. With a limited surviving record from medieval France, there are details about Joan’s life that we will never know for sure. This makes her story ripe for reconsideration and – for Josephine – recovery. We had enough in the budget for horses – but that would have really turned my writing upside down I, Joan, directed by Ilinca Radulian, portrays Joan as non-binary. We see them fighting first for an audience with the future king and then in the fields of France – but at the same time they are also fighting a society where their identity puts them in extreme danger. Joan famously wore men’s clothing, had short hair, and carried guns. But gender is rooted much deeper than these external signifiers, which can be dismissed by the practicalities of survival in the Middle Ages. For Josephine, Joan being written as non-binary was both obvious and natural. “I could have written this play as a cis woman who is a feminist and passionate about expressing herself that way,” says Josephine, dismissing the idea. “But the more I read about Joan, the more I think she is what we would now call non-binary or trans.” In Josephine’s imagination, the character’s preoccupation with gender is inextricably intertwined with their divinity. “My understanding of Joan’s God is that it’s an internal, almost gut instinct,” says Josephine, who points to Joan’s trial transcript, the main source of Joan’s own voice: “They’re asked over and over again. because they wear men’s clothes. . And again and again, Joan says, “Because God led me.” “I am very familiar with this kind of abuse” …Charlie Josephine It is this trial that ultimately leads to Joan being burned at the stake for heresy. “It appeared that it was not just a fashion statement that Joan chose death. It was considered a sin and a crime to present themselves the way they did. They knew the risk and chose it. For me, this is a deep need.” Joan’s strangeness, Josephine suggests, is like these messages from God: a command, an insistence, a necessity. “I couldn’t read it as anything other than a trans experience.” The announcement that the character is non-binary sparked immediate outrage online, with attacks on the cast, crew and the very idea that a historical figure’s identity could be re-examined in art. “It was all pretty predictable,” says Josephine. “Personally, I am very familiar with this kind of abuse. None of this was a surprise. But we didn’t pay much attention to it, because we have work to do.” As we speak, the show is starting to come together. “This work has been done with so much care and love. It requires real courage from the actors. I think they have enough on their plate without thinking about all that stuff.” There was, however, one part of the reaction that surprised Josephine. “I forgot I was blaspheming a saint!” they say, laughing, with their hands raising their heads and almost forming a halo. When he first thought about how to write the play, they add, Joan’s devotion proved a challenge. “I’m not a religious person and most of our audience won’t be,” says Josephine. “I was like, ‘How do I make God compelling to a non-religious audience in 2022?’ How do I make this accessible?” Josephine found the answer by leaning into the complexities of Joan’s Catholicism and exploring how her working-class background might have stood in the way of the traditional hierarchies of religion. This child who grew up in a farming family would not understand the Latin spoken in church. “They couldn’t read, they couldn’t write,” says Josephine, “but they had to go to church to hear someone speak in Latin and tell them that’s how you experience God. Joan experienced God while walking in fields with nature, listening to their own expression.” In the play, the vehicle for this expression is dance, the use of movement that stems from the failure of language. Rethinking gender through a historical perspective, says Josephine, always raises questions about finding the right words. “The language we have now, Joan didn’t have then. There is a violence to it, I think. Not having the words to explain yourself is really scary.” “It was considered a sin and a crime to present herself the way Joan did” … the patron saint of France was burned at the stake in Rouen in 1431. Photo: Universal Images Group/Getty Images Thus, in the absence of adequate language, there is a plethora of movements that cover everything. The entire show is written live and physically, with every battle told through dance, choreographed by Jennifer Jackson. “I really didn’t want to do any sword fighting,” says Josephine. “With war, I wanted it to relate to the body, to remind us of the people in it. It’s also a strange message. It felt important that the body was front and center.” The epic setting of the Globe requires this kinetic energy, the playwright argues, this flurry of movement from Joan’s fights, bullies, and moments of divine inspiration. With £5 tickets to the grounds, they hope the show will invite a whole new audience to hear this story of a historic working-class hero, told here as non-binary, turning the Globe into a place of dance and celebration. “Half the audience is on their feet like they’re at a concert,” says Josephine. “They can literally walk away if they get bored. There are airplanes and pigeons and it will rain. It’s visceral and direct.” If all goes according to plan, they say, the show should be “punk and fluffy.” The size of the theater also allowed them to be bold in their writing. “I wanted to dare to write epic speeches and be aware of the sky in this space,” says Josephine, smiling. “We have the budget for horses, but that really would have turned my writing upside down.” The divinely chosen teenager is played by non-binary actress Isobel Thom, a recent graduate of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. “They graduated five minutes ago,” laughs Josephine. “He’s amazing, a smart actor, passionate and courageous. I don’t know if I could do what they’re doing, certainly at this stage in their careers, but also at this stage in their lives.” Those who want to see Joan as a strong young feminist can still see Joan that way In response to the online attacks, Thom tweeted: “Joan is an icon to so many, of any gender, but she means so much to women / afab [assigned female at birth] People […] no one is taking the historical Joan from you. no one is taking your joan away from you, whatever joan means to you […] this show is art: it’s exploration, it’s imagination.” Few artists have to deal with such an onslaught of abuse for their professional debut. But this production was never meant to cause controversy. In I, Joan, the protagonist’s queerness is an essential part of who the character is, an essential part of the story. It’s clear from Josephine’s script and enthusiasm that the very bones of this production vibrate with queer pride, delight and community. “It’s a happy thing to be queer,” they say, smiling. “It’s a beautiful thing to be transgender.” Historical theater will always be performative, by its very nature. “It’s not historically accurate — if you compare it to the history books written by white, cis, straight, middle-class, middle-aged men,” says Josephine. “But I think it’s important to question where we’re getting our information from.” They’re not trying to tell a naturalistic story: there’s so much movement here, after all, with drummers, dancers and direct address. “There is limitless expansion in art. That’s the whole point. It’s not a museum. It’s poetry and play and asking all the big what-if questions.” And what if this was a story of a non-conforming warrior who, if he were alive today, might hear the word non-binary and feel like he fits in? What if it was told in a scene that has played with history, reimagined it and revisited it – and examined our motivations for putting the past on stage at all? “There’s plenty of room for all of us,” Josephine says, leaning back in their chair, sure of themselves and their show. “For those who want to see Joan as a strong young feminist, they can still see Joan as that. For those hungry for this new exploration of Joan, this project is exciting. Nothing is removed, only expanded.” I, Joan, am at the Globe Theatre, London, until October 22.
