Virginia Gay’s lively script redeems the long-nosed gallant from toxic heteronormativity. Deconstructing the chorus into a lively trio of actors seeking their moment, and gender-swapping Cyrano, director Clare Watson explores a dramaturgy that subverts the masculine expectations of Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac. 

This Cyrano is a delicious whirl of theatricality: predictable paths of performance are parodied, as the chorus reminds the actors that even balcony scenes have particular rules. Gay’s Cyrano dominates the stage, stripped of the source’s machismo while clinging to their tenderness. Roxanne has wit and charm and agency, to the extent that her fascination with Yan, the bone-headed glamour boy, feels as shallow as she admits it to be. Unlike Rostand’s Roxanne, she is a fine match for Cyrano.

The script initially refuses to flinch at the most troubling element of the plot. When Cyrano provides Yan with the words to seduce Roxanne, his failure is that he denies Roxanne informed consent. Suddenly, darkness enters into the fantasy and the lovers are rendered asunder. This provides a moment of tension, which is rapidly removed with a cheery song.

Yet the ease of the reconciliation is a misstep, a refusal to follow through on the script’s subversive reading of the romance. With so much to admire, from the ensemble’s ability to work as a unit while also imbuing their performances with individual panache, to the rapid pace and the witty banter, it flounders to find a convincing redemption without brushing off the serious issues it exposed. 

Cyrano, Traverse Theatre, until 25 August, times vary.