A FORGOTTEN CHAMPION RECLAIMED
Rehearsal for Truth International Theater Festival, an annual showcase of contemporary European theater, is unfolding under the banner of Perseverance at Bohemian National Hall—a charming all-purpose venue on the Upper East Side with a pull-out proscenium stage at one end. While the space lends itself well to intimate storytelling, be advised: seating is on a single level, and obstructed views may require a bit of audience perseverance of their own.
Among the festival’s standout offerings is Blood, Sweat, and Queers (Transky, Body, Vteřiny), a provocative and timely work by Czech playwright Tomáš Dianiška. Presented by Untitled Theater Company No. 61, this play explores the extraordinary life of Zdeněk Koubek (1913–1986), a world-class athlete whose journey was nearly erased and forgotten until now.
Alyssa Simon, Hennessy Winkler
The English translation by Edward Einhorn (who also directs) and Katarina Vizina (who also appears as several characters) captures an urgent humanity that earned the original a 2019 Czech Theatre Critics’ Award for Best Play. Zdeněk’s story, though set in the early 20th century, resonates with an unsettling timeliness.
Born without medical supervision and assigned female at birth, young Zdeněk—then Zdeňka—shows early athletic prowess and a defiant tomboyish streak. At a community theater performance, a drunken actor forces a last-minute substitution: teenage Zdeňka dons a fake mustache and male costume, saves the show, and finds unexpected comfort in masculine presentation. From this pivotal moment, a deeper realization unfolds.
Hennessy Winkler
Initially identifying as a lesbian, Zdeněka becomes the target of relentless bullying for appearing too masculine. After rising as a 17-year old track-and-field phenom, Zdeněka’s success leads to a bout of exhaustion. Unconscious in recovery, medical scrutiny discovers a new revelation: Zdeněka is intersex—possessing both male and female anatomical traits. (The slight penis and testicles were interior vs. exterior.) In one of the most poignant turns of the piece, Zdeněka is medically affirmed as a male in the eyes of society–and finally, himself.
The story resists easy categorization. It’s not merely a trans narrative, nor just an intersex one, but rather a nuanced, deeply human tale of self-discovery, resilience, and the cruel binaries imposed by both medicine and culture. No longer in need of transition, a medical enhancement successfully helps Zdeněk find personal happiness. Along with romantic love, the happy ending may be short lived with the world around him hurtling toward catastrophe. In a quietly chilling final image, his girlfriend dons an overcoat emblazoned with the yellow Star of David. The year is 1934.
Craig Anderson, Alyssa Simon, Hershel Blatt, Hennessy Winkler, Jean Marie Stodolski, Ethan Fox
Visually, the production is spare. This may be poor man’s theater at its best. Chris Carcione’s video projections and Becca Silver’s sound design provide crucial atmospheric weight, while Ramona Ponce’s costumes help the actors shift seamlessly between multiple characters. The ensemble—Vizina, Craig Anderson, Herschel Blatt, Ethan Fox, Jean Marie Stodolski, and Alyssa Simon—handles the shape-shifting demands with clarity and commitment.
Central to the play’s emotional core is Hennessy Winkler’s portrayal of Zdeněk Koubek. A trans man himself (as confirmed in a post-show talkback), Winkler brings physical credibility and emotional authenticity to the role. Whether sprinting laps around the perimeter of the audience or launching into punishing calisthenics, he embodies the tension between internal truth and external perception with raw vulnerability. But I do wonder why actors choose to get tattoos—two armfuls, no less. A blank canvas would make it far easier to build a new character than the distraction of all that contemporary ink.
Hennessy Winkler
Dianiška’s script doesn’t shy away from the creeping tide of fascism, nor from the tangled web of homophobia, transphobia, and gender policing that accompanied it. The parallels to today are chilling. The play raises the question: are we, like the characters onstage, naïvely assuming things can’t get worse?
Blood, Sweat, and Queers is more than a biographical drama—it’s a mirror held up to our past and present, a warning against gender ignorance, and a celebration of those who shouldn’t be erased. At a time when bodily autonomy and identity are again under attack, Zdeněk Koubek’s story demands to be seen, noted, and remembered.
Hennessy Winkler, Alyssa Simon
photos by Steve Prue
Blood, Sweat, and Queers
Untitled Theater Company No. 61
part of Rehearsal for Truth Theater Festival, 2025 edition: “Perseverance”
Bohemian National Hall, 321 E 73rd St
1 hour 15 minutes
May 26, 30, 31 at 7; June 3, 9, 14 at 7; June 15 at 5
for tickets ($10-$20), visit Rehearsal for Truth
Gregory Fletcher is an author, a theater professor, a playwright, director, and stage manager. His craft book on playwriting is entitled Shorts and Briefs, and publishing credits include two YA novels (Other People’s Crazy, and Other People’s Drama), 2 novellas in the series Inclusive Bedtime Stories, 2 short stories in The Night Bazaar series, and several essays. Website, Facebook, Instagram.
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Trans folk often get tattoos because it IS a reclamation of their bodily autonomy that you say is so important right after you attack his. As you said this was low budget theater. I’m sure his tattoos would be professionally covered, as hundreds of other actors do in bigger budget productions, every day. Way to contradict yourself and let his ink take you out enough to write that unthoughtful, ignorant shit.
The writer didn’t ask why TRANS people get tattoos, he mentioned ACTORS. Low budget or not, a critic’s job is to notice that it’s distracting. That isn’t an attack.