Anastasius Linck boldly renounces skirts and embroidery in favour of living as a man, and Catharina Mulhahn's own act of bravery is to love and marry him, slipping their relationship right under the noses of their narrow-minded neighbours.

Take, for instance, Lucy Black’s permanently aghast Mother, who is brilliantly funny in her fragility and her shock at even the slightest deviation from the norm. Owen Horsley directs at Hampstead for the first time; his credits for the RSC include the recent double bill of Rebellion and Wars of the Roses as well as Maydays and Salomé. Still, there's something so lovable about this play and its quest to find a golden thread of joy in a dark, tattered old story.Swapping a non-binary Joan of Arc for a Prussian male-presenting musketeer entering a relationship with a woman, the tale about the “gender pioneering couple” Anastasius Linck (Maggie Bain) and Catharina Mülhahn (Helena Wilson) is bold and clever, but only on the surface.

For all the talk about respecting one’s “true essence”, it’s pretty noticeable that Thomas isn’t writing from her own experience here, and thus isn’t able to fully engage with the nuance involved. Maggie Bain’s enigmatic Linck is “neither man nor woman” but a suave and witty quipster with polished bedroom skills. Imaginatively reverse-engineered from a historic trial document, Ruby Thomas’s tale of a couple who pioneered gender flexibility in 18th century Prussia is, ultimately, a bit of a mess. But Thomas's big innovation here is to pull out and imagine all the fun, creativity and joy behind the stark historical court transcript that inspired this play. Ruby Thomas’ ambitious, if somewhat overstuffed drama draws on the scant historical facts available from the transcript of Linck and Mülhahn’s trial.

Thomas has crafted a drama that’s rich and witty and playful, if over-busy and uneven, told in flashback by the older Mülhahn.

Owen Horsley’s production locates it in a tender bath scene – perversely stuffed into an overhung corner of the set – where Maggie Bain’s charismatic Anastasius strips off for the first time, in the garret that has become the couple’s marital home, moments before the law comes banging at the door, bringing an abrupt swerve into courtroom drama.com shall not be deemed to endorse, recommend, approve and/or guarantee such events, or any facts, views, advice and/or information contained therein. Like I, Joan, Thomas’s expansive play reframes historical drama, reminding us that there are countless untold stories of queer love and gender nonconforming throughout history. Our autumn/winter season celebrates Hampstead’s cosmopolitan roots with a range of international playwrights from Scotland to the USA, Northern Ireland to France and some great homegrown talent in between. Even in moments of silence in the courtroom scenes, a single stare from them at whoever is in the dock conveys so much, and it’s absolutely fascinating to witness. Faber Members get access to live and online author events and receive regular e-newsletters with book previews, promotional offers, articles and quizzes.

Directed by Owen Horsley, the play’s creative team also includes Simon Wells (design), Matt Daw (lighting), Max Pappenheim (sound), Dewi Johnson (assistant direction), Rachel Bown-Williams (fight and intimacy direction) and Ruth Cooper Brown (fight and intimacy direction).Please note that our content warnings evolve as the production does throughout rehearsal and previews, so there may be changes made between booking and attending the theatre. Though such ideas which appear compelling to Mülhahn feel light and unexplored as an audience member, even with all its impressive motifs. If you missed I, Joan at the Globe last year, then Hampstead Theatre’s Linck and Mülhahn tries to emulate its daring and ambitious nature, but only somewhat successfully. One moment we have a tender domestic scene, the next we are in comic absurdist territory with a courtroom whose judge could have been written by Peter Cook.