The Score Review: Brian Cox Is a Commanding Bach
Brian Cox brings wit and strength to J.S. Bach in The Score, Shakespeare Theatre’s spirited clash between art and power.
From a storied real-life encounter between composer Johann Sebastian Bach and Prussian ruler Frederick the Great, Oliver Cotton’s The Score spins a dramatic clash between power and resistance.
It’s 1747, and J.S. Bach, an artist revered in his own time, has the stature and opportunity to speak for the people right to the face of the warmongering king. Whether he can or will show such fortitude forms the crux of Cotton’s seriocomic play, making its U.S. premiere at Shakespeare Theatre following an acclaimed run at Theatre Royal Bath in the U.K.
Theater legend Trevor Nunn’s well-constructed production has made its way here with much of its cast and creative team intact, leading with redoubtable Succession star Brian Cox as musical genius Bach, who, initially, is unsure he even wants an audience with King Frederick.
Bach shares his misgivings with his wife, Anna Magdalena (Nicole Ansari-Cox), in the concise opening scene. Cox revs his comic engines, as the composer practically talks himself out of accepting this royal invitation from a monarch he clearly does not support.
In the couple’s affectionate rapport (the actors are, in fact, married), Ansari-Cox establishes Anna as good counsel for her husband, who’s a devout man of God imbued by Cox with humble strength. Bach is conscious of his musical gifts but not egotistical, which puts him in sharp contrast with Frederick the Great (Stephen Hagan).
Before their tête-à-tête, however, Bach visits with his son Carl (Jamie Wilkes), also a musician and composer, who happens to be in the king’s employ among a stable of court composers at the palace in Potsdam. The son warns his outspoken father to mind his tongue while visiting the king’s court, for there are eyes and ears everywhere. That doesn’t stop Bach from loudly labeling Frederick a despot.
Cotton’s tightly written script eagerly reflects our present moment, which is wild considering the play premiered in 2023. The sight of servile court composers Quantz, Benda, and Graun (Christopher Staines, Toby Webster, and Matthew Romain, respectively) fawning over Frederick’s every idea or utterance resembles nothing so much as a Donald Trump cabinet meeting.
Nunn’s direction punctuates the humor, and the paranoia, with a deft touch that flows through Robert Jones’ polished set and costume designs. In a few swift moves, the stage might shift from the Bach family home in Leipzig, to Carl Bach’s home in Potsdam, to the palace salons where Hagan’s flouncing Frederick holds court.
In a most enjoyable turn, Hagan slays as the foppish king, seething under the surface of his regal bonhomie with cruel menace. Remembered as one of history’s highest-ranking homosexuals, Frederick was keenly interested in expanding his kingdom through wars and invasions.
An alarmed Bach decries the conditions of Frederick’s rule: the king’s armies stationed everywhere, including roaming the streets of Leipzig. Men have been disappeared, and women raped, he tells Carl. But will he make a case before the king? First, he’ll have to address a challenge set by Frederick, a musical conundrum, to improvise a fugue on a theme composed by the king.
The challenge is witty and fun, but Frederick’s desperation to prove himself a more cunning musical mind than Bach still registers as infinitely petty given the life-or-death turmoil elsewhere in his kingdom. Though the portrayal of self-aggrandizing power feels accurate.
Cox offers in response the command of a man who would stand up to an arrogant king. His Bach handles Frederick wielding diplomacy and philosophy, with fire when needed, balancing the scales between the peacocking Prussian ruler and his modest subject. Onstage, they stand as equals, with Cox rising a head above when passionately prosecuting Bach’s final persuasive arguments.
Thus, well before it’s over, the play seemingly solves its own puzzle, then coasts to a placid conclusion. Cotton scratches the surface of profound topics, like Bach’s fascination with the gray moment between impulse and action, but that discussion remains small talk compared to Bach’s big chance to address the ills of the nation, stand up for the downtrodden, and hold the king accountable.
The Score (★★★★☆) runs through Oct. 25 at Sidney Harman Hall, 610 F St. NW. Tickets are $43 to $182. Call 202-547-1122, or visit shakespearetheatre.org.
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