In 2008 Lehman Brothers, the American investment bank, went bankrupt. The fourth largest investment bank in the States was the first and certainly largest casualty of the ‘sub-prime’ loans scandal and of other really dubious investments vehicles, created by arrogance and greed by people who thought themselves ‘untouchable’ by virtue of their immense and obscene wealth. And at the time, we all thought ‘fuck ‘em! Greedy bastards, got wot they deserved’. Which was in part true and in part bitterness that we hadn’t spent years capitalising on the misery of others to accrue 157 million dollars in our personal bank accounts.

But the story of those Lehman Brothers is so brilliant, amazing and incredible, an immense tale of genius and from ‘nothing to everything’, the living of the ultimate American Dream, that they made a play about it. The Lehman Trilogy. And they got Sam Mendes, the world’s best ex-husband of Kate Winslett, and not a bad theatrical director either, to stage it. And it is a truly inspired masterpiece of production. Because its not a ‘drama’, though its dramatic, not a ‘comedy’ though its very funny, not a musical, not ‘noir’, not nuffink. It’s just three amazing actors telling a story. For 3 hours. They split it into 3 so you don’t get cramp and so they can sell more drinks but its one story.

The story of German Jewish immigrants in the 1850s. Why is the ‘jewish’ relevant? Because they weren’t the type of modern day Jews that inspired Jeremy Corbyn into his hatred. These were ‘real’ Jews. Black hats. Long coats. Beards. As we all should be, even in this heatwave. And they opened a shop in Alabama selling fabrics. Which led them into the cotton trade, and onto coffee, coal, railroads, tobacco, everything. They just had a knack of knowing the next ‘big thing’. Much harder than thinking ‘yeah, I knew that was gonna be big’ 5 years later. They built the Panama Canal, FFS.

But its about the characters, the personalities, the relationships, the kids, the wives, the everything. And it is simply brilliant. You should see tomorrow!!! Unless…

Unless its the hottest day in the history of British hot days. Like yesterday. Because the Piccadilly Theatre is described as ‘art deco’. Which, as any theatre buff knows actually means ‘hasn’t been renovated since 1915’. When the average man (I’m assuming) measured no more than 5 foot 3. And there was still the end of the ice age to contend with. So don’t expect air-con, nor even a fucking fan. Unless you bring your own. As we did. But its not enough. By the end of act 3, with 1000 people overheating and the stage lights burning bright, it must have been 50 degrees of hotness in there. Which is unacceptable and spoils the fun a bit.

By winter it will be over. Alas.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx