Imagine the phone call. On one end, Sam Mendes, director of the National Theatre’s smash hit The Lehman Trilogy. On the other, Simon Russell Beale, one of the most talented actors working in Britain today.

“There’s just one thing,” says Mendes, “before we can go ahead and announce you as Henry Lehman. Can you just confirm your Jewish status?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a high profile Jewish role. Surely you must have something? A great- grandmother from Vienna? An auntie who claimed to be allergic to pork?”

“I don’t think so…“

“Do you like bagels? Salt beef? We could work with that — “

“But why is this necessary? I’ve played many, many roles, and I’ve never been asked about my religion before. And I don’t want to brag, but I’ve never had any complaints.”

“We have to be sensitive about these things. We don’t want protesters to storm the stage, accusing you of Jewface.”

“Jewface?”

“It’s a thing. Jewish performers and creatives are saying that there needs to be more sensitivity, more thought into how Jews are depicted on stage. And that when non-Jewish actors take prominent Jewish roles…it could be a problem.”

“But surely Jews can just look like anyone else? Isn’t it really quite offensive to suggest that there’s a specific Jewish look?”

“Well, yes. And also no. It’s not just the look. It’s the understanding. How can you really fully inhabit the role of Henry Lehman without a drop of Jewish blood? That’s just a rhetorical question, by the way. Imagine me shrugging as I say it. Except don’t, because that’s a Jewish stereotype.”

“Hang on, aren’t you Jewish yourself, Sam?”

“Well yes. And no. On my mother’s side, yes. On my father’s side, Roman Catholic, from Trinidad. Is that enough to mitigate your non-Jewishness? God only knows.”

“Are Jews really upset about this? I mean, haven’t they got enough to worry about?”

“Good point. I don’t think Jewish theatre-goers have woken up to this as an issue yet — and that’s a very good thing, because, bless them, I mean bless us, we do seem to be very keen on going to the theatre.”

“Not to mention the many Jewish producers…theatre owners…writers…directors…agents…performers…”

“It’s the performers who seem most upset.”

“Do you think they’d protest? I can’t really imagine Maureen Lipman or Miriam Margolyes waving banners and shouting…Well, shouting maybe.”

“We’ve got a United Synagogue rabbi advising on all the religious aspects. That might help.”

“Will Miriam be happy with that? ”

“I’m not sure Miriam really approves of Orthodox rabbis in general. Or even the Jewish community.”

“Are you overthinking this, Sam? After all, these people stress that they are not criticising individual actors. They’re just asking questions about the authenticity of productions. There’s one they mention which has Jewish themes, a Jewish writer but no Jewish actors or involvement. There is a danger there that they’ll fall back on stereotypes, out of ignorance. That’s just not the case with most productions, or most actors. And it’s not even definitely the case with the production they mention. It’s just a possibility.”

“Yes, but we’ve seen the way that rows about cultural appropriation work. One mis-step, one mistake, one wrong gesture and wham! People are all over Twitter, accusing you of racism.”

“But I’m not a racist. And I do care about authenticity. But surely acting is by definition about pretending to be something that you are not.That’s our authenticity.’

“I agree. And anyway Jews love it when actors get things wrong. They roll their eyes and say ‘He’d never speak to his mother like that’ and ‘That guy’s clearly never been in shul in his life.’ Not that this will happen to you, Simon. Maybe I am over-reacting. I’ve just had a very difficult conversation with the playwright.”

“Stefano Massini? Hang on, isn’t he from Tuscany?”

“Yes. Another Roman Catholic.”

“Oy.”

“Indeed. And he’s fiery when you challenge him. It’s basically the same as saying, ‘You’re Italian, write about Italian things,’ he says. ‘The Lehman brothers are emblematic, paradigmatic, of a much bigger historical phenomenon.’”

“Oy, gevalt.”

“Chill, Stefano, I said. Have a bagel. Luckily he went to a Jewish academy. And he speaks Hebrew. So I think we’re fine.”

“Baruch Hashem.”

“Hang on, I didn’t know you were Jewish?”

“I’m not. I just thought it might help.”

“I’m ringing Miriam now. Fingers crossed!”