Tag Archives: Brian Cox

MAKE IT HAPPEN

★★★

Edinburgh International Festival

MAKE IT HAPPEN

Edinburgh International Festival

★★★

“it’s left to Brian Cox to bring a craggy humanity to Adam Smith, and to deliver the best lines”

James Graham’s latest play, Make It Happen, and written for the National Theatre of Scotland is, fittingly, thoroughly Scottish in theme and character, and set in Edinburgh. It’s about the former CEO of Royal Bank of Scotland, Fred Goodwin. Directed by Andrew Panton of the Dundee Rep, and starring Scottish actors Brian Cox and Sandy Grierson, the play is staged with lashings of petty power plays, and dollops of hubris. It is presented as a satire, but it’s really a presentation of Faustian bargains, struck during the banking excesses at the turn of the millennium.

Make It Happen has more than a few echoes of an ancient Greek satyr play, complete with singing, dancing, and liberal use of expletives. And into this complex dramaturgical mix comes the moral philosopher Adam Smith (inventor of modern capitalism), musing on the complexities of time travel and wondering how his work came to be bastardized by neoliberalism and the world of modern finance. For fans of works like Caryl Churchill’s Serious Money, Lucy Prebble’s ENRON, and Stefano Massini’s The Lehman Trilogy, James Graham’s play will seem like another piece of the puzzle of this world. Indeed, Royal Bank of Scotland was directly linked with many key players in the earlier plays. How were these businesses, and their CEOs, given the power to bring the world to the brink of financial disaster? And, in the nearly twenty years since the financial crisis of 2008, has anything been learned? As Graham reminds us, it was the “little people” who got burned by all the mergers and acquisitions. Even disgraced CEOs like Goodwin still managed to walk away with substantial pension pots.

The piece wisely focuses on the main character of Fred Goodwin, played by Sandy Grierson. There is too much ground to cover otherwise, and the play is already overly lengthy. Graham solves the problem of how to incorporate all the other political and financial figures swirling around Goodwin by creating an ensemble of actors who move like a Greek Chorus. The ensemble steps continually in and out of a variety of characters, some well known, like former PM Gordon Brown, and his Chancellor Alistair Darling, and some obscure like Goodwin’s bullied assistant, Elliott. Significantly, we never meet Goodwin’s wife, or friends. Goodwin isn’t a charismatic figure himself, however, and this is why the weighty ballast of Brian Cox’s Adam Smith is needed—to anchor this drama. Otherwise it might be prone to fly away on a wind of advertising jingles and Karaoke moments as Goodwin and his team unwind from time to time on their quest for ever more outrageous leveraged buyouts. For all the witty references to Edinburgh life, and its glory days as the intellectual powerhouse known as the Athens of the North in the eighteenth century, Make It Happen is often short on satire and long on nostalgia. When Goodwin and Adam Smith take a snowy tour of the statues of Edinburgh, Smith comments that he and his friend David Hume are captured in poses that are nothing like the men they are supposed to represent. It’s a reminder that the present cannot bring the past back to life, but only freeze it in unnatural poses. Graham’s portrait of Fred Goodwin seems equally unnatural at times, despite all Sandy Grierson’s efforts to make him sympathetic. But that is often the problem with satires. They serve a moral purpose, rather than a dramatic one, and it’s left to Brian Cox to bring a craggy humanity to Adam Smith, and to deliver the best lines. If Grierson carries this lengthy play, it is Cox who comes on to humanize the satyrs in the boardroom, and to make us wish he had more time on stage.

Andrew Panton’s direction makes the most of the talented cast, and his movement director, Emily Jane Boyle, does lovely work with the choreography of the ensemble. The lighting design (Lizzie Powell) sometimes produced light that was too strongly directed into the audience’s eyes, but otherwise made the most of the opportunities for lighting magic. The set (Anna Fleischle) was a practical combination of oblong shapes that hinted at corporate headquarters while allowing lots of space for video projection. The combination of technology, lighting and sound provided just the right amount of a non naturalistic environment for the ensemble to move in and out of their characters with ease and conviction.

Make It Happen gives us much to think about. See it if you can, but be prepared for a long evening. This is a production chock full of ideas, not surprisingly, but feels, at present, a bit overstuffed.



MAKE IT HAPPEN

Edinburgh International Festival

Reviewed on 1st August 2025 at Edinburgh Festival Theatre

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 

 

 

 

 

MAKE IT HAPPEN

MAKE IT HAPPEN

MAKE IT HAPPEN

THE SCORE

★★★ 1/2

Theatre Royal Haymarket

THE SCORE

Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★1/2

“Cox, booming yet nuanced, is at a canter to reach the next cutting quip”

What’s The Score?

The sporting pun is not entirely misplaced. A major sequence in this uneven play of ideas sees the sycophantic court of Frederick the Great hosting a frantic wager with Carl, the son of composer Johann Sebastian Bach.

It’s a 1747 head-to-head between supreme monarch and ageing genius.

The king claims elderly Bach, freshly arrived from Leipzig, cannot improvise a three-part fugue based on Frederick’s own simple melody which has been worked into a knotty puzzle by his three stooge composers. It is, says one, “unfuguable”.

Carl says otherwise, betting his meagre funds and his standing in court on his father, who is sick, tired, unpredictable and cantankerous but still “the greatest composer in Europe”.

This showdown is typical of writer Oliver Cotton’s hodge-podge script. It is fun, elaborate in the set-up, and Brian Cox – who doesn’t just inhabit Bach but swallows him whole – lands the multiple pay-offs exquisitely.

But where does this fit into the play? Is it the highlight, a metaphor, or just some passing frippery? Does the play even know? The script roams freely across a number of topics – religion, morality, tyranny, creativity, inspiration – without really choosing a main course.

Its purpose, perhaps (and it is a grand and worthy one) is to provide a sufficiently gargantuan role for the operatic, rip-roaring Cox, who is on top form.

With his accented voice emerging like an eruption of lava from the depths, he leaps on the fluctuating states of Bach’s mind with an actor’s relish.

So much to choose from.

There’s indignant Bach, outraged by the king’s warmongering. There’s morose Bach, losing eyesight and significance. There’s courageous Bach, challenging the tyrannical king over his soldiers’ debauchery. There’s tormented Bach, everything coming from God but now troubled by doubt. Above all, there’s sitcom Bach – with his masterful pauses, hangdog putdowns and dry asides.

Cox, booming yet nuanced, is at a canter to reach the next cutting quip. Professional discipline dictates that he cannot yield to an obvious urge to eyeroll at the audience for another bite at the comedy cherry.

In his wake, the supporting cast do their best to keep up.

The expansionist king (Stephen Hagan) is affably dangerous, talking about Prussia First in terms that are disconcertingly relevant. His verbal duels with Bach, which anger the monarch but also give him a moment’s pause, represent the dramatic peak despite lacking real threat or menace.

A good show too from Jamie Wilkes as Carl, the son and foil, who does much of the thankless legwork supporting an ailing and disgruntled Bach. The brainless scheming of the three composers Christopher Staines, Toby Webster and Matthew Romain (as Quantz, Benda and Graun – “like a firm of bent solicitors”) is goofy in a Blackadderish way. And Peter De Jersey goes to town on French philosopher Voltaire playing him as Shrek’s Puss in Boots by way of ’Allo ’Allo.

Their court intrigue – all behind-the-hand whispers, elaborate bows and fake flattery – is aided considerably by Robert Jones’s sumptuous period costumes and stately sets in director Trevor Nunn’s easy-on-the-eye drama.

Curiously, and despite the title, music plays second fiddle here, with the cast miming unconvincingly at the harpsichord. But that is perhaps indicative of the production as a whole. Nearly, but not quite.



THE SCORE

Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 27th February 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WAITING FOR GODOT | ★★★★ | September 2024
FARM HALL | ★★★★ | August 2024
HEATHERS | ★★★ | July 2021

THE SCORE

THE SCORE

THE SCORE