To some extent, The Lehman Trilogy is itself a legendary “Made in Britain” product of the British theatre industry. It has been well-received in the UK, with several successful West End returns, as well as extending its reach beyond the UK through its multiple runs on Broadway. Furthermore, it reaches an even wider audience through National Theatre Live streaming. Its success mirrors the epic narrative of the Lehman family, spanning over 150 years—from humble Alabama cotton traders to the rise of a mighty financial empire in New York City.
Originally written by Italian author Stefano Massini as a nine-hour radio play, and later adapted by British playwright Ben Power, The Lehman Trilogy is also a meta-narrative that celebrates British theatrical traditions in revived forms: doubling, virtuoso storytelling, and direct address to the audience.
As a more intimate theatrical space, Gillian Lynne theatre fully waves the magic of Es Devlin’s rotating Wall Street office and Sam Mendes’s epic directorial hands: Philip’s (Heffernan) wisdom and “strategy” presented through the three-card monte, Bobbie’s (Krohn) epic dance into his grave, and the contrasting scene where Overshown plays several bankers’ suicides when Bobbie was courting the once-divorced Ruth. Cat Beveridge’s piano triumphs not simply as the soundscape, but as a symbol of New York as the magical music box, easily stirring your emotion.
Compared to the original cast at the Lyttelton Theatre, who felt more detached from their characters and leaned into the role of narrators, the trio of John Heffernan, Aaron Krohn, and Howard W. Overshown subtly merge with their characters a little bit more, leaning towards a slightly more naturalistic approach that strikingly works well.
However, while the production is phenomenal with its unparalleled theatricality, the narrative feels more like a tribute to London bankers who want to see themselves on the West End stage, or a eulogy to Lehman’s finance empire and the once-vanquishing capitalism, rather than a critique or a reflection on such bustling prosperity. Even if it intends to mock contemporary consumerism in part III, it still obscures the deeper pitfalls within the internal logic of capitalism.
The play shuns from the sinful American plantation economy, the hidden factors of those financial disasters, and the contextualised Jewish history that actually established Lehman Brothers’ mindset as “the middleman”. Even though the cast masters in depicting vivid characters, it’s quite hard to touch upon the genuine internality of the Lehman family, ultimately becoming merely symbols intertwined with the U.S. Finance history.
By romanticising Lehman’s stories and describing them as out-dated heroes, The Lehman Trilogy attempts to cover up the theme of greediness, which is deeply entrenched in a terrifying financial game where an exit is never possible (though cleverly alluded to through Bobbie’s fatal dance). It may satisfy some audiences’ penchant for watching emotional rollercoasters and nostalgic feelings for American dreams, but will certainly appeal less to those more critical minds.
