The recent announcement that HBO cast Kyriana Kratter — known for Star Wars: Skeleton Crew — to play the character Lev in season three of The Last of Us reopened a debate about on-screen representation. Fans of the original video game will recall that out nonbinary transgender actor Ian Alexander provided Lev’s voice, and HBO says the character will remain a 13-year-old transgender boy who is sibling to Yara and linked closely to Abby. Yet producers reportedly justified Kratter’s casting by saying she “best embodied the character,” a phrase that has drawn scrutiny. That line, reported in some outlets and later removed in others, highlights how casting decisions can communicate values beyond the story itself.
One reason this moment matters is that the practice known as transface — casting cisgender actors in transgender roles — is not new. Transface is a shorthand for a recurring industry choice that has economic, cultural, and symbolic consequences. When creative teams choose a cis performer over a trans actor for a trans role, they signal who belongs in the industry and who is expendable. For many viewers and for trans performers, these choices are not abstract: they are about jobs, visibility, and the chance to tell one’s own stories.
What transface looks like and why it matters
The pattern of cis actors receiving trans roles spans decades, with many high-profile examples that repeatedly reignite the discussion. Notable moments include Jaye Davidson’s 1992 acclaim for The Crying Game, Hilary Swank’s 1999 Oscar win for Boys Don’t Cry, Felicity Huffman’s 2005 recognition for Transamerica, Jared Leto’s 2013 win for Dallas Buyers Club, Jeffrey Tambor’s casting in 2014 for Transparent, and other controversial choices in subsequent years. Critics argue that each time a cis performer steps into a trans part, the industry robs trans performers of work and normalizes an idea that a trans life is an impersonation rather than a lived identity. As Jen Richards, an Emmy-nominated trans actor and activist, has said plainly: hiring cis actors for trans roles denies trans people opportunities and reinforces harmful narratives about authenticity.
Being read: how presence and legibility shape belonging
The dynamics of representation can be compared to the classroom practice of teachers being “read” by students. Educators learn that their posture, tone, and vulnerability communicate as much as the curriculum; students interpret those cues to decide whether they belong, whether they are safe, and whether the subject is theirs to claim. In similar fashion, casting signals to audiences who is seen as a legitimate inhabitant of a role or of a community. When media industries repeatedly exclude trans actors from trans roles, the result is diminished access and an erosion of cultural trust.
From classrooms to casting rooms
Just as a teacher’s visible commitment can awaken a student’s curiosity — what some pedagogues call ga’agu’a, a yearning toward further learning — inclusive casting can create a sense of belonging for marginalized viewers. Conversely, when institutions fail to make paths visible and accessible, people learn to feel peripheral. For trans performers, the stakes are practical as well as symbolic: representation is a form of economic participation. Past disputes over roles and high-profile reversals have shown that conversation alone rarely forces structural change; it requires deliberate policy and cultural pressure.
Practical steps and cultural shifts
There are concrete moves that can help undo the pattern of transface. Casting directors and producers can commit to auditioning and hiring trans actors for trans roles, fund training pipelines that increase trans talent in front of and behind the camera, and adopt transparency about casting criteria so that the community can understand how decisions are made. Story creators can also prioritize writers and directors from the communities depicted, ensuring that portrayals are rooted in lived experience. These changes are not merely about optics: they expand opportunity and improve storytelling.
Why it matters now
Representation gains urgency amid shifting political climates that have seen increasing attacks on trans rights and access to healthcare. When public narratives exclude or misrepresent trans people, those broader social harms can intensify. Prioritizing authentic casting counters erasure and offers audiences portrayals that are more nuanced and accountable. Ultimately, the goal is to ensure that roles written as trans exist as real possibilities for trans performers, rather than as opportunities repeatedly given to those outside the community.
I write with professional and personal stakes: years in media, alongside experience as a trans person navigating early performance work, make clear that who plays whom matters. Casting decisions teach the public — whether intentionally or not — about belonging, legitimacy, and value. If the industry listens to those lessons, perhaps we will see fewer instances of transface and more authentic stories led by the people who live them.