The Land of the Living – National Theatre

Last Updated on October 3, 2025

Juliet Stephenson stars in new play by David Lan

3.0 out of 5.0 stars

‘Were they measuring the children?’ a UN worker asks, as she lifts a heavy metal tool out of a trunk. Unfamiliar to her, but all too familiar for the audience, the instruments passed around by the cast are callipers and anthropometers, all tools associated with Nazi eugenics. The Land of the Living is David Lan’s first play in over thirty years, and explores the very real story of children who the Nazis took in a top-secret SS project known as Lebensborn. This project oversaw the kidnapping of children across Europe who were deemed fit to continue the Aryan race. Thomas is one of these children, but he has been squirrelled away in a German family, given a new name, mother, home and language. And yet he dreams in Polish.

Thomas remains hidden, behind a pair of false glasses, until he meets the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) worker Ruth, who is helping the UN provide aid, and assisting in the rehabilitation of displaced children throughout Bavaria. Ruth’s discovery of Thomas is the beginning of her mission to return these children to their rightful parents, but can she convince herself that this is the correct path? Years later, when Thomas confronts Ruth about her choices, the cruelty of history is laid bare for them both, as they explore how their actions changed their lives.

This is where The Land of the Living opens, not on a wrecked Europe but on 1990s London, where Ruth lives with her husband Bill. To one side, the stage shows her kitchenette and on the other, a small piano and enormous files of research.  Between them, the traverse stage is illuminated with a sprawling map. The silver haired Thomas, played by Tom Wlaschiha, is in no mood to wait, he wants answers, but first, Ruth reveals just how much there is to explain.

The undeniably brilliant Juliet Stevenson takes on the challenging role of Ruth. Possessing a sharp mind and Lee Miller levels of tenacity, Ruth steers both the UN mission and the production as a whole. Her inner compass is uncompromising, and only her physical body betrays her secret fears: Is she doing the right thing? Her strong bond with Thomas as a child, as the team tries to tease information about his former life out of him, grows even as the time to rehabilitate the children runs out. Ruth’s morals are absolute, but will she make the decision, or will he?

Although both characters are David Lan’s own creations, The Land of the Living was based on interviews with the British-Austrian journalist Gitta Sereny, who worked for the UNRRA immediately after the end of the war. Sereny dedicated her life to understanding the extent of German culpability in the holocaust, and there is a touch of Sereny in the character of Ruth. Stevenson is unwavering throughout, a true testament to moral integrity, a complete tour de force.

The rest of the company do well too, albeit with occasionally flabby material. The remaining cast members switch quickly between roles. There are a pair of ‘nice’ English girls, quaint Polish villagers, restless American soldiers and even a gaggle of ex-Nazis, all characters that feel underdrawn in comparison to Ruth and Thomas. Their ensemble work is to be commended, however, as the production, which involved hundreds of props and costume changes, went off without a hitch.

Although there is no doubt that The Land of the Living is an emotional play, bound up in so many tragic histories, it fails to reach the profound. Perhaps it is the play’s length, or its whirl of characters, languages and places, that make it challenging to sit with one emotion for too long. It could also be that, apart from exploring the devastating multi-generational consequences of Lebensborn, there is no sense that Lan is saying anything interesting about how we grasp and understand history. While The Land of the Living confronts the difficult choices made by those in positions of power, and the bonds people establish in extraordinary circumstances, the language and structure of the story are no match for others of its ilk. Many horrors are left unspoken, and those that are spoken of are unable to carry the burden of history.

The Land of the Living is certainly prescient, not only because of how it relates to the multiple devastating conflicts occurring around the world at the moment, but also because it explores belonging and what it means to be displaced. Can an absent sense of belonging be re-established? While the play is decidedly not the most interesting work done on this subject, it acts as an important reminder to stand with people who cannot return home.

The Land of the Living – National Theatre

Dorfman,
Upper Ground
South Bank
London, SE1 9PX

Tickets available here.

Run time: 2hrs and 45mins including an interval

Productions until 1st November 2025.

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