Theatre Royal Haymarket Review: Is 'The Score' a relic of a bygone theatremaking era?

★★★ | As tensions rise in The Score, a scheming courtier remarks that the stubborn, moralising Bach is a man “from another era”, a man woefully out of step with the rapidly changing world around him. And as the curtain fell on The Score, I found myself re-enacting this conversation when I turned to my friend and immediately declared: “This felt very traditional. Very old-school.”

The Score – the latest entry in Theatre Royal Haymarket’s star-vehicle productions – chronicles the meeting between composer J.S. Bach (Brian Cox) and King Frederick II of Prussia (Stephen Hagan), in which Frederick presents Bach with a musical challenge and Bach confronts Frederick on his military campaigns. There is clearly a desire for the type of theatre The Score offers: this Trevor Nunn-directed play transfers to the West End on the heels of its critically lauded, sold-out run at Theatre Royal Bath. Usually, such acclaim comes from a play that is doing something new; The Score, however, feels like a time capsule, a glimpse into a style of theatremaking that is, for better or worse, swiftly vanishing in the modern era.

The company of The Score. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

This traditionalism is to the play’s success, as it works in favour of the technical elements of the production. Joanna Toan’s simple yet magnificent lighting design calls to mind the lush, painterly cinematography of Stanley Kubrick’s film Barry Lyndon. Additionally, it appeared as if none of the actors were mic’d – given that microphones are now a staple in most (read: all) West End productions, The Score allows us to witness what now feels like a rare treat, a feat of breath control and projection as the cast’s voices soared through the nearly 1000-seat theatre without digital amplification. While neither improving nor detracting from the play, it is a reminder of the craft of acting and of the technical skills that, until only recently, were essential to a successful performance.

Considering performances, it is Cox who is naturally the target for the greatest praise, and rightfully so. Cox delivers a solid performance as Bach, settling and writing scores with a grandiose energy that, once again, harkens back to an older, less naturalistic style of acting; his sparring partner, Stephen Hagan as Frederick, is a worthy opponent, though suffers from inconsistent characterisation (is he a Hamilton-esque buffoonish ruler or a truly terrifying Machiavel?). Additional characters are scattered throughout: Jamie Wilkes as Carl, Bach’s son, is the most compelling – a man caught in the middle of a dangerous conflict, struggling to play both sides for as long as he can. On the other hand, Bach’s wife, Anna (played by Cox’s real-life partner, Nicole Ansari-Cox), and Peter de Jersey’s Voltaire are frustratingly underutilised, reduced to stock characters of ‘wife’ and ‘comedic sidekick’ rather than meaningful contributions to the story. 

The company of The Score. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Therein comes the main issue of The Score: the story. Oliver Cotton delivers a play that flounders in its narrative arc. Act I is all but useless, an hour of exposition with barely any stakes. Act II comes along with more plot and thematic musing than it can handle – is this a play about a musical challenge? About the durability of faith? About the resistance of an occupied people against their oppressors? All of these themes are present in Bach and Frederick’s confrontation, and yet none of them fully develop. Instead, we are left with a play that is slow when it should be quick-paced, and fast when it should instead pause and reflect. And as this is a ‘traditionalist’ play, one focused on story rather than spectacle, such a weak script is all the more detrimental, a play that leaves us fidgeting in our seats rather than leaning forward in excitement.

However, as my friend and I commented on the outdated staid-ness of The Score, we couldn't help but wonder: were we the problem? Theatre nowadays, especially in the West End, is about spectacle – about celebrity casting, extravagant designs, and franchise adaptations – not to mention the short attention spans curated by our increasingly online lives. Perhaps The Score is then not a frustrating relic of the past, but a radical challenge of the future. What would theatre look like if we took the best of The Score – its pared-back traditionalism – and combined it with the well-wrought storytelling of contemporary theatre’s finest writing? 

 Bach is a dying breed of man faced with the tide of a new world order; much like its aging protagonist, the question that The Score and the millenia-old traditions of theatre must grapple with is: can they survive in this modern world? And is it worth surviving at all?

★★★

The Score plays at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 26 April.