Brian Cox: ‘I can’t afford $110 each for one night at the theatre’
If Brian Cox has completed an interview without using the f-word, I’ve yet to read it. Like Logan Roy, the Succession character with whom he’s now synonymous, Cox uses swearing like an ever-reliable crutch. He’s been rehearsing Eugene O’Neill’s autobiographical masterpiece, Long Day’s Journey into Night, and when we meet, in a spare room above a central-London theatre, the topics on the 77-year-old’s mind are family feuds, addiction, and what it means to be a “Mick”. After six decades as a celebrated stage, TV and film actor, Cox is doing the opposite of slowing down. “Now that I’m older,” he declares, “I don’t have time to f*** around!”
For years, he was everyone’s favourite chameleon: convincingly coiled and obstreperous in Manhunter, wryly avuncular in Rushmore and Adaptation, dependably sneaky in two instalments of the Bourne series. As an odd-job man, he delivered in spades. Then came the game-changer.
Cox always had the capacity to be shirty, but since he appeared as the CEO of Waystar Royco, his temper has become a talking point. His co-stars on Succession have variously described him as “frightening”, “scary”, “terrifying” and capable of flying into a “diabetic rage” (Cox is, to be fair, diabetic). Meanwhile, fans are hooked on his angry-old-man act. Especially female fans, according to Cox’s wife, the actor Nicole Ansari (“Women are flocking”).
Chutzpah comes with the territory. Last November, Cox in a pair of faux leather trousers that were unbecomingly snug (when he sat down, the internet cringed). Undaunted, Cox skipped onto ITV’s and heaped praise on his personal stylist. Yet there’s more to Cox than showbiz hoo-ha. A few months ago, I saw him in north London at , a show about the Apollo missions. Hands clasped behind
