Review: 'The Lehman Trilogy' Does Not Live Up to Its Reputation

In the opening moments of "The Lehman Trilogy," a young man from Bavaria stands on a New York dock. The year is 1844 and enthusiastic, ambitious Heyum Lehmann (one of the numerous characters played by Steven Skybell) looks forward to success in his crowded, opportunity-rich new home. For the next three hours-plus how Heyum (renamed Henry Lehman by an immigration officer) and his two brothers build the financial empire known as Lehman Brothers, the investment company that survived the Great Depression but collapsed in the 2008 financial disaster.

Those two brothers are Emanuel (Joshua David Robinson) and Mayer (Firdous Bamji) who join Henry in building a clothing firm in Montgomery, Alabama in the 1840s, where they find success and disappointment. Henry is considered the brains of the operation, Emanuel the muscle, and Mayer the great conciliator between his often-sparring brothers. Henry's early death makes for his untimely exit, and as the country enters the Civil War, the battle for the company's survival falls between Emanuel, who has relocated to New York City, and Mayer, who stays in Montgomery. Emanuel sees the South as dead after its defeat and insists that Mayer move to New York, but the hardened Southerner (who also owned a plantation and was a slave owner, not touched on here), refuses; it's a seeming divine intervention from his dead brother that leads him to make the move.

That's Act One. Acts Two and Three chronicle how Emanuel and Mayer, and Emanuel's son Philip (Skybell), and his posh, less effective son Bobby (Bamji), grow the family's financial empire, moving from being the 'middleman' (a term unheard of in mid-19th century America) to investment bankers that finance many of the innovations (intercontinental railroad) and popular trends (cigarettes) of the late 19th and early 20th century. Their aggressive selling techniques in the 1920s were said to be responsible for the Great Crash of 1929, which they survive; as well as the 2008 financial crisis, which they did not. Along the way, the interrelationships of family members, who include cousins, wives and children are fleshed out.

But not very convincingly. Massini's script feels like a magazine article dropped onto the stage with thumbnail sketches of the principals, and even more vague ones of those in their orbit. Played by a trio of actors, this myriad of characters is brought diffidently to life, sometimes on-target, as in Skybell's marvelous Henry and Philip; and sometimes not, such as any time the actors impersonate any of the women as if they are in a Monty Python sketch. When the play was accused of whitewashing Mayer's ties to slavery, a line was added that pointedly makes a Lillian Hellmanish point about the South's poisoned legacy because of slavery. But what of the caricatures of the Lehman women, who lack any agency aside from being appendages of the Lehman men? The domain of "The Lehman Trilogy" is that of powerful white men who assimilate in the Antebellum South, then solidify their success in New York City throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries, so it isn't surprising to see these men treat the women like appendages. But that the play treats them as jokes is regrettable.

At the Huntington, the production collapses under the weight of its ambitions. Director Carey Perloff relies heavily on shtick to provide comedy, which wears out its welcome early on. Oddly, the actors are best when each is soliloquizing – as an ensemble, they never click, which is essential for a play about the bonding of brothers to succeed. What comes together in the first act all but vanishes in the second and third where new family rivalries emerge and their business evolves. What's missing is a dramatic through-line. Massini busily chronicles the events of the Lehmans' story, but they feel dramatically inert. The family rivalries and questionable business practices crowd the final act, still, there's no pay-off when Lehman Brothers closes. "The Lehman Trilogy" doesn't end with a bang, but with a whimper.

The play's reputation precedes it after celebrated, award-winning productions in London and New York (under the direction of Sam Mendes). That production was set in what appeared to be the glass-and-chrome world of Wall Street. That kind-of specificity may be necessary, because in the dreary-looking Huntington production, the Lehmans appear to never leave the dock Henry landed on. Set designer Sara Brown crowds the stage with tall packing crates, from which the actors made numerous, noisy entrances and exits. She collaborates with projection designer Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew and lighting designer Robert Wierzel in executing the projections that appear on the packing crates. But too often these are underlit and contextually confusing, never creating a unified look. Costume designer Dede Ayite does provide handsome suits for the men who, it is noted, started as tailors. And while the play covers more than 160-years, it is often difficult to understand just where the action sits chronologically, which also leads to some confusion. Looking to be disappointed? Head to "The Lehman Trilogy."