The Lehman Trilogy, Gillian Lynne Theatre - A captivating feat of storytelling
⭑⭑⭑⭑ - 86% • 4 minutes 9 seconds read time.
The Lehman Trilogy at the Gillian Lynne Theatre is a feat of theatrical storytelling, spanning nearly 200 years. The play offers a sweeping history of the Lehman family, taking us from their humble beginnings as immigrant shopkeepers in 1840s Alabama to their rise as architects of modern capitalism. Directed by Sam Mendes, this production is a testament to the power of simplicity, yet its underlying themes linger in the mind long after the curtain falls. While it has much to praise, I found myself grappling with some fundamental questions about its purpose and perspective.
The three actors - Aaron Krohn, Howard W. Overshown, and Leighton Pugh, the understudy for Henry who stepped in seamlessly - deserve high praise. First of all, to keep an audience interested for over three hours with only the three of you onstage the whole time is really an exceptional achievement. But applause for their versatility. With fluidity and precision, they move in and out of dozens of roles, embodying not only the Lehmans themselves but also the many figures who shaped their story. It’s no easy task to shift from character to character, oftentimes in the space of a single scene, but these performers do so with an ease that is truly impressive. Krohn, in particular, stood out among the trio. His bold physicality brought a dynamic energy to each role, and his expert voice work allowed him to differentiate between characters with precision, making each one distinct and memorable. He carried himself with an assurance that was both engaging and commanding, bringing a presence that was hard to look away from.
The direction by Sam Mendes is another highlight of the production. Mendes manages to transform the vast Gillian Lynne Theatre into a space that feels at once grand and intimate. The set design by Es Devlin, with its huge revolving glass box and stark, minimalist furniture, is both corporate and clinical, reflecting the cold nature of the financial world the Lehmans helped to build. Yet, there are moments of real warmth and intimacy amidst the steel and glass, where the human side of the story shines through. It’s a balance that is difficult to achieve, especially in such a large venue, but Mendes and his team accomplish it with aplomb.
The script is filled with wit and poignancy, capturing the comedy and tragedy of the Lehman saga. There are moments that genuinely make you laugh, and others that surprise you with their emotional weight. The play moves swiftly, yet it gives enough space for each era to unfold, never rushing through the complexities of history. The writing captures the essence of a family whose ambition and drive shaped the American dream—and ultimately, a global financial system. It’s undeniably an engaging way to trace a history that many might find dry on the page.
But while the production succeeds in educating and entertaining, it also left me with a lingering sense that something was missing. Throughout its over three-hour runtime, I found myself questioning why this story was being told, and to what end. Is this simply a history lesson brought to the stage? Is it a celebration of the Lehmans’ entrepreneurial spirit? Or is it a critique of the very system they helped to build? The play appears to steer clear of offering any outright judgment. It presents the rise of capitalism with a kind of clinical neutrality, and in doing so, it misses an opportunity to engage with the broader implications of its subject matter.
One area where this lack of any opinion one way or the other feels particularly uncomfortable is in the origins of the Lehman family’s wealth. Their fortune was built, in part, on the back of human suffering from the outset. The family’s early success came from the cotton trade—cotton that was produced through the brutal labour of enslaved people. This uncomfortable reality is a foundational part of their story, yet the play handles it with a light touch - referenced, spoken about, but again with total neutrality. The Lehmans’ legacy is intricately tied to a system that exploited human lives for profit, a fact that feels especially relevant given the narrative’s focus on their rise and influence. Given the immeasurable human suffering and economic devastation that has resulted from the practices and institutions the Lehmans helped to establish, the play’s refusal to take a stance feels like a glaring omission.
In the end, I settled on seeing the piece as a form of education through entertainment—a kind of theatrical documentary that pulls back the curtain on the origins of modern capitalism. And in that regard, it succeeds admirably. It offers a rare and insightful look into the evolution of the American financial system, capturing the spirit of innovation and the allure of the American dream. But for those who are truly paying attention, The Lehman Trilogy should also serve as a cautionary tale. Beneath the humour and the emotional beats, there is a darker message about the fragility of the systems that underpin our lives. It is a reminder of how deeply unstable and unsustainable the mechanisms of capitalism can be, and how quickly fortunes—and lives—can change when those mechanisms fail.
Ultimately, The Lehman Trilogy is a remarkable piece of theatre, one that demonstrates the storytelling power of the stage and the skill of its creative team. Yet it is also a work that left me wanting more—more perspective, more critique, and a more pointed reflection on the impact of the Lehmans’ legacy. As it stands, it is a beautifully crafted play that succeeds in capturing the sweep of history, but it remains frustratingly silent on the lessons that history might hold. For those seeking to be moved and entertained, it delivers. For those seeking deeper answers, it leaves room for conversation—and perhaps, that is its greatest strength.
The Lehman Trilogy is running at the Gillian Lynne Theatre until January 5th 2025. Tickets can be booked here.