Arts & Entertainment
Tragic hero
Film tells story of Alan Turing — from cracking Nazi code, to chemical castration and suicide


Patrick Sammon, right, on the set of his new docu-drama ‘Codebreaker’ in London. (Photo by Marc Sethi)
Scientist cracks codes to help defeat Germany during World War II, essentially laying the groundwork for modern computer science, but is busted for being gay and in 1950s England is chemically castrated and eventually commits suicide.
It’s a tragedy of epic proportions but such is the little-heard biography of Alan Turing. A new 81-minute docudrama about his life called “Codebreaker” debuts next week in Washington.
Novice filmmaker Patrick Sammon — a former executive director of the Log Cabin Republicans — says Turing’s story needs to be told.
“As I sorted through my hundred ideas,” Sammon says, “Turing’s idea quickly came to the top of the pile, because it was an amazing story, and I thought everyone should know about Turing’s contribution to our world. And then I realized there really hadn’t been a film like this done about him.”
The film (turingfilm.com) was released in the U.K. last year. Its U.S. premiere is Wednesday at the Georgetown AMC. It’s sponsored by the D.C. Center and tickets are available to the public (todpix.com/codebreaker). An advance screening and discussion were held last week at the National Press Club on the centenary of Turing’s birth and the film will also screen in New York on Oct. 25. Beyond that, TODpix, a distribution company, is working with grassroots organizations across the country to find audiences for additional showings.
Sammon, who’s gay, hopes to reach pockets of both the LGBT and tech communities to build a demand for additional screenings, culminating in “A Night with Alan Turing,” featuring screenings in 50 cities on Nov. 8.
Turing grew up in England in the early 20th century. He quickly stood out as a bright student and his teachers praised his “considerable powers of reasoning.” He developed a strong bond with fellow student Christopher Morcom. According to David Leavitt, novelist and Turing historian, “Morcom was, I think, more important to Turing than any other human being in his life. Turing was probably, in an adolescent way, quite in love with him.”
When Morcom died at a young age, Turing delved into his work as a sort of tribute to his late friend. As years passed, Turing developed the idea of the computer, broke encrypted German army messages during World War II and laid the groundwork for the future of artificial intelligence and mathematical biology.
Later in life, Turing had an affair with a 19-year-old named Arnold Murray, a friend of whose burgled Turing’s house early in 1952. Turing reported the crime, and the circumstances surrounding it, to the police. At the time, homosexuality was illegal in England and they charged Turing with indecency. Turing opted for hormonal treatment over prison, resulting in serious physical and mental side effects. Shortly after ending treatment, Turing committed suicide at the age of 41.
Sammon moved to Washington in 2003 to become a documentary filmmaker, but his career took a detour when he began working for, and ultimately running, the Log Cabin Republicans, a conservative organization that advocates for equal rights for the LGBT community. During this time, Sammon amassed many ideas for films. When he launched Story Center Productions in 2009, he partnered with a U.K.-based production company to help with his first film, “Codebreaker.”
He spent about six months in London during the production, which he’s been focused on full time since 2010. He factored in some living expenses into the production cost, which was funded largely from Channel 4 in the U.K. and also on his savings. Other donors, foundations and corporations including Intel and Google helped finance the project.
Sammon calls the film a “drama-documentary,” saying, “A third of it is drama, recreation, and then two-thirds is documentary. It’s a good mix of those two elements, and I think they play well together.”
It features a myriad of interviews with Turing’s relatives and associates, historians and industry professionals. His work is widely recognized as the foundation of all modern-day technology. In the film, Google’s Alma Whitten describes his contributions as timeless, saying, “They’re the things that are fundamentally true, so they’re always going to be with us, in the same way that the things that Galileo and Newton contributed to physics are always going to be with us.”
Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak credits Turing with making possible all subsequent technology. “Alan Turing was sort of at the top of everything that ever developed,” Wozniak says in the film. “All the future research that was done by people, building real equipment that can compute.”
The interviews are juxtaposed with dramatizations of therapy sessions from Turing’s last year, while Turing was undergoing chemical castration. Ed Stoppard (“Upstairs, Downstairs”) plays Turing opposite Henry Goodman (“Taking Woodstock”) as Franz Greenbaum, Turing’s psychiatrist and friend.
Production for the dramatizations lasted only five days, but Stoppard’s performance is a stand-out piece of the film. He dramatizes the internal struggle that drove Turing to take his own life. Stoppard’s sometime-sardonic, sometimes-reflective comments mask a pain his character carried with him.
Sammon’s passion for the story stemmed from the injustice Turing faced despite his contributions to society.
“Here you have someone who is one of the key people who helped the Allies win World War II by breaking Germany’s naval enigma code,” Sammon says. “Then you have the technology world really giving Turing credit for creating the intellectual foundation for modern computer science. The paper he wrote in 1936 really laid down the key ideas for the modern computer.”
Sammon goes on to describe the “Shakespearean tragedy” that followed. “In spite of his genius, in spite of his amazing contribution to the war, the fact that he was gay, the government persecuted him because of it.”
During the course of a year of chemical castration, Turing took daily doses of estrogen. Effects of the treatment included shrunken testicles, a loss of his libido, a loss of body hair and the development of breasts. Months after the treatment ended, Turing’s body had not returned to its normal state. Sammon believes Turing elected the hormone therapy, in place of a year in prison, to avoid being taken away from his work.
Sammon, who says he has “a lot of other ideas” for future film projects though he’s focused on the “Codebreaker” distribution for now, says it’s important to recognize the historical accomplishments of the LGBT community and foster a more inclusive society. At the same time, he believes all people, regardless of sexual orientation, should admire Turing as a hero and a genius.
“I admire him very much because he was unconventional,” Sammon says. “I respect Turing for the fact of how unconventional he was, and he wasn’t afraid to be different. The sad part is society, at the time, didn’t have tolerance for differences.”
Leavitt describes Turing as a tragic hero we must learn from.
“His refusal to compromise or lie, under such circumstances, was nothing less than heroic — yet we must remember that, as a consequence of his heroism, he was erased from history for many years. Nor is the institutionalized hatred of gay men and lesbians any less of a reality today than it was in 1953. Even as we honor Alan Turing, we must be vigilant. We must not let ourselves lapse into complacency. This could happen again.”

‘A Wrinkle in Time’
Through July 20
Arena Stage
1101 Sixth St., S.W.
Tickets range from $59-$209
Arenastage.org
Currently at Arena Stage, talented out actor and singer Taylor Iman Jones is rekindling an old friendship with an adored character of fiction.
Broadway vet Jones is starring as 13-year-old Meg Murry in “A Wrinkle in Time,” the world-premiere musical adaptation of Madeleine L’Engle’s same-titled book.
For many readers, especially women, the classic 1962 young adult novel, was their first foray into sci-fi, particularly one with a female protagonist.
The story centers on Meg, an awkward schoolgirl whose physicist father has mysteriously disappeared. Now, Meg, her popular friend Calvin, and smart younger brother Charles Wallace are tasked with moving through time and space to find him. Along the way they encounter adventure and evil.
For Jones, 33, playing 13-year-old Meg feels freeing in ways. She says, “As you get older, you’re told to grow up, so I like letting go of some of that. To feel feelings in their rawest form and to tap back into that is fun. I like the spontaneity. There are highs and lows to revisit.”
Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, Jones began piano lessons at just six and soon added band and plays to their pursuits. Following high school, she made a deep dive into California theater for seven years before making the big move to New York in 2017 where after just two months she was singing on Broadway.
The determined and appealing Jones, who lives in New York with their partner, boasts an impressive bio. She has appeared on Broadway as Catherine Parr, Henry VIII’s sixth and final wife in Six, and in the original casts of “Head Over Heels” and “Groundhog Day.” She’s been seen in national tours of “Hamilton” and “American Idiot.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: It seems “A Wrinkle in Time” and Meg mean a lot to a lot of people.
TAYLOR IMAN JONES: The book tells the story of a girl with so much undiscovered power who’s accomplishing things she never imagined that she could.
BLADE: Can you relate?
JONES: Meg wears her emotions on her sleeve. I can certainly relate to that. I’m a Pisces. Sometimes being hyperemotional and very empathetic can feel like a burden, but as I’ve matured, I have realized that it’s not a bad quality. And it’s something I’ve learned to harness and to enjoy. I love that I can play a role like Meg in front of thousands of people.
BLADE: Was “Wrinkle in Time” a book you knew well?
JONES: Oh yeah, it’s a favorite book that lives in my heart and my mind. It’s one of the first books that taught me about the adventure of reading.
BLADE: And playing a favorite character must be a kick.
JONES: It really is.
BLADE: Meg is a big part in a big show.
JONES: This musical is huge. They’re traveling through space and meeting people on different planets. 20-person cast. 30 songs in the show. Quite the undertaking and I’m proud of us. I’m on stage for the entire musical and I sing four or five numbers.
As a mezzo soprano I guess you’d say I have the luxury of being able to do a lot of musicals that span a lot of different genres: rock musical, pop musical, and standards. “A Wrinkle in Time” is contemporary musical theater.
For me, singing is probably the least difficult part of the show. What’s harder for me is the way Meg experiences trauma; I need to be careful when I’m screaming and yelling.
BLADE: It seems mostly women have been involved in making this production happen (book by Lauren Yee; music and lyrics by Heather Christian; directed by Lee Sunday Evans; and choreography by Ani Taj.)
JONES: It’s true, the director, writer, etc., and most of our producers are all women. This doesn’t happen most of the time. For me it means new ideas and fresh energy, and pushing the limits of musical theater.
It’s also created a wonderful space in which to work. It can be more generous, and understanding. And centering the story on a young girl is something we can all relate to.
BLADE: Will “A Wrinkle in Time” resonate with queer theatergoers and their families?
JONES: I think so, especially on the heels of pride month. It’s truly a show for all ages about finding your inner strength and fighting for the things that you love; not letting evil win over the power of good, and not just for yourself but for those around you too.
Movies
Two new documentaries highlight trans history
‘I’m Your Venus’ on Netflix, ‘Enigma’ on HBO/Max

One of the most telling things about queer history is that so much of it has to be gleaned by reading between the lines.
There are the obvious tentpoles: the activism, the politics, the names and accomplishments of key cultural heroes. Without the stories of lived experience behind them, however, these things are mere information; to connect with these facts on a personal level requires relatable everyday detail — and for most of our past, such things could only be discussed in secret.
In recent decades, thanks to increased societal acceptance, there’s been a new sense of academic “legitimacy” bestowed upon the scholarship of queer history, and much has been illuminated that was once kept in the dark. The once-repressed expressions of our queer ancestors now allow us to see our reflections staring back at us through the centuries, and connect us to them in a way that feels personal.
One of the most effective formats for building that connection, naturally enough, is documentary filmmaking — an assertion illustrated by two new docs, each focused on figures whose lives are intertwined with the evolution of modern trans culture.
“I’m Your Venus,” now streaming on Netfllix, bookends an iconic documentary from the past: “Paris is Burning (1990), Jennie Livingston’s seminal portrait of New York City’s ballroom scene of the ‘80s. In that film, a young trans woman named Venus Xtravagana delivered first-person confessionals for the camera that instantly won the hearts of audiences — only for them to break with the shattering revelation that she had been murdered before the film’s completion.
That 1988 murder was never solved, but Venus — whose surname was Pellagatti before she joined the House of Xtravaganza – was never forgotten; four decades later, her family (or rather, families) want some answers, and filmmaker Kimberly Reed follows her biological siblings — Joe, Louie, and John, Jr. — as they connect with her ballroom clan in an effort to bring closure to her loss; with the help of trans advocates, they succeed in getting her murder case re-opened, and work to achieve a posthumous legal name change to honor her memory and solidify her legacy.
It’s a remarkably kind and unapologetically sentimental chronicle of events, especially considering the brutal circumstances of Venus’ killing — a brutal death by strangling, almost certainly perpetrated by a transphobic “john” who left her body hidden under a mattress in a seedy hotel — and her decision to leave her birth family for a chosen one. As to the latter, there are no hard feelings among her blood relatives, who assert — mostly convincingly — that they always accepted her for who she was; one senses that a lot of inner growth has contributed to the Pallagatti clan’s mission, which admittedly sometimes resembles an attempt at making amends. For the murder itself, it’s best to leave that part of the story unspoiled — though it’s fair to say that any answers which may or may not have been found are overshadowed by the spirit of love, dignity, and determination that underscore the search for them, however performative some of it might occasionally feel. Ultimately, Venus is still the star of the show, her authentic and unvarnished truth remaining eloquent despite the passage of more than 40 years.
Perhaps more layered and certainly more provocative, documentarian Zackary Drucker’s “Enigma” (now streaming on HBO/Max) delves further back into trans history, tracing the parallel lives of two women — trans pioneer and activist April Ashley and self-styled European “disco queen” Amanda Lear — whose paths to fame both began in Paris of the 1950s, where they were friends and performers together at Le Carrousel, a notorious-and-popular drag cabaret that attracted the glitterati of Europe.
Ashley (who died at 86 in 2021) was a former merchant seaman from Liverpool whose “underground” success as a drag performer funded a successful gender reassignment surgery and led to a career as a fashion model, as well as her elevation-by-wedding into British high society — though the marriage was annulled after she was publicly outed by a friend, despite her husband’s awareness of her trans identity at the time of their marriage. She went on to become a formidable advocate for trans acceptance, and for environmental organizations like Greenpeace, who would earn an MBE for her efforts, and wrote an autobiography in which she shared candid stories about her experiences and relationships as part of the “exotic” Parisian scene from which she launched her later life.
The other figure profiled by “Enigma” — and possibly the one to which its title most directly refers — is Amanda Lear, who also (“allegedly”) started her rise to fame at Le Carrousel before embarking on a later career that would include fashion modeling, pop stardom, and a long-term friendship with surrealist painter Salvador Dalí. A self-proclaimed “disco queen” whose success in Europe never quite spread to American culture (despite highly public associations with musical icons like David Bowie and Roxy Music), Lear’s trajectory has taken her in a different direction than Ashley’s. In the film’s extensive live interview segments, she repeatedly denies and discredits suggestions of her trans identity, sticking to a long-maintained script in which any and all details of her origins are obscured and denied as a matter of course.
At times, it’s almost amusing to observe her performative (there’s that word again) denials, which occasionally approach a kind of deliberate “camp” absurdity in their adamance, but there’s also a kind of grudging respect that’s inspired by the sheer doggedness with which she insists on controlling the narrative — however misguided it may seem to those of us on the outside. Debate about her gender-at-birth has continued for decades, even predating Ashley’s book, so the movie’s “revelations” are hardly new, nor even particularly controversial — but her insistence on discrediting them provides sharp contrast with the casual candor of Ashley’s elegantly confident persona, underscoring the different responses to transphobia that would direct the separate lives of both these former (alleged) friends.
For what it’s worth, Lear sent an email to the Washington Post, calling the movie “a pathetic piece of trash” and denying not just her trans identity but any friendship or association with Ashley, despite ample photographic and anecdotal evidence to the contrary — and while it might come across as callous or desperate for her to maintain the presumed façade, it’s a powerful testament to the power of cultural bullying to suppress the truth of queer existence; the contrast between the life each of these women chose to live speaks volumes, and makes “Enigma” into one of the most interesting — and truthful — trans documentaries to emerge thus far.
While neither film presents a comprehensive or definitive view of trans experience (is such a thing even possible, really?), both offer a perspective on the past which both honors the truth of queer existence and illustrates the ways in which the stigma imposed by mainstream prejudice can shape our responses to the identity through which we are perceived by the public.
That makes them both worth your attention, especially when our queer history — and the acknowledgement of trans existence itself — is at risk or being rolled right back up into the closet.
Sports
Trans cyclist’s victory sparks outrage in conservative media
Katheryn Phillips is originally from DC

On the heels of UPenn erasing the record of the first openly transgender NCAA Division I All-American swimmer and the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to tackle bans on trans student-athletes, right wing media is now all hot and bothered about the latest trans woman who won a cycling championship — even though she competed according to the rules.
On Tuesday, 58-year-old Katheryn Phillips finished first in USA Cycling’s Lyons Masters National Championship race for women aged 55-59, with a time of 1:42:10, according to the official results posted by the organization. The record shows her gender as “F” for female.
One second behind Phillips was Julie Peterson, with a time of 1:42:11 — as were three other cyclists: Mary Beth Grier, Andrea Cherniak-Tyson, and Carolyn Maddox.
Peterson, 57, was so outraged, she told Fox News she refused to stand on the podium in second place next to Phillips. Her story was swiftly shared by the New York Post (also owned by Fox’s parent company News Corp.), the Daily Mail, Breitbart, and other conservative media.
Both Peterson and another competitor are accusing USA Cycling of “hiding” that a transgender woman had registered to race.
“It was hidden from us. Katheryn Phillips, KJ’s name, was not on that list. And I checked it up all the way to the point of closure when we couldn’t register online anymore,” Debbie Milne told Fox.
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have spent thousands of dollars in travel and time off work to come and do a race,” Peterson said. Fox welcomed Milne, 56, who finished seventh on Tuesday, to Fox & Friends Thursday morning.
(Video courtesy of Fox News)
Peterson told Fox she did complain to USA Cycling officials prior to the race. Both Milne and Peterson referred to Phillips as a male, and with “he/him” pronouns.
“To be fair to all humans, if we want to say ‘him’ or ‘her,’ he was born a biological male, that is a fact,” Milne said. “And that is the thing that makes it an unfair advantage. Whatever has happened after that is a whole different topic.”
“I said, ‘I don’t want to race against a man,’ and they quickly scolded me and said ‘Oh, you can’t call him a man,’ and I’m like ‘Well, he is a man,’ so I was quickly scolded and corrected that it is a woman and I don’t even know what to say.”
USA Cycling did not respond to the Washington Blade’s emails requesting comment.
Phillips, who goes by Kate and by “KJ,” is a former rugby player with the D.C. Furies, who stated in the comments of a 2024 article published by Zwift Insider that she was the first out trans athlete in the U.S. to compete under the 2004 International Olympic Committee’s guidelines on trans participation.
“When USA Rugby told me about the IOC decision in 2004, I raised my hand to be included. I experience nothing but joy when I play, ride, and race,” Phillips said.
As the Blade has reported, the International Olympic Committee drastically revised those rules in 2021, and in March, Republican lawmakers in D.C. demanded the IOC ban trans female athletes from women’s sporting events altogether.
The Blade also reached out to Phillips for comment but as of press time we have not received a response. She told Zwift Insider in March 2024 she does not let those who disapprove or spread hate impact her performance or her attitude.
“I am unaffected by dissent. I love, I share joy, I am me, and I have been my authentic self for decades,” she said. It’s been reported Phillips came out in 1999, and told Zwift Insider she considers herself a lifelong cyclist.
“I’ve been on a bike for as long as I can remember,” said Phillips. “As kids, my friends and I rode all over town, we were feral kids; no cell phones, no trackers … we just roamed, and nobody got in trouble or hurt bad enough not to ride home … Scrapes/bruises/cuts were not an issue for us. In my teens, I worked for myself as a court/legal messenger, doing all of the work via my bike until I got a car. Raced BMX as a kiddo (when I mowed lawns to cover the race entry fees), I did MTB stuff (non-racing) and Sprint/Olympic Triathlons in my 30’s, and now I’m racing on Zwift, Road/Gravel, and CX in my 50s.”
In the comments section, Phillips made clear she’s not competing to win.
“I don’t do sports for victory, I do it because like many other women, I am an athlete to my core,” she said. “Unlike some, I am not there to WIN, I am there to do my best with the competitors and teammates I have around me trying to do the same…we are in it for the experience. I rejoice in their wins, and a lot of joy is reflected back to me when I have a good day.”
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