Caledonia

This is the story of Scotland's disastrous flirtation with imperialism: the Darien venture of 1699, when a fantastic proportion of Scotland's capital was invested in a hopeless colony in Panama. The National Theatre of Scotland stages the story of this national catastrophe on the scale it deserves. The stage becomes a busy dockyard, a fetid jungle, a ship with billowing sails – environments subtly enhanced by the addition of discreet but evocative sound-effects.

The bitterly satirical tone is set at the opening: five MPs crouch doglike as they are wined and dined by an financial speculator. In powerful contrast are the anonymous victims of the folly, who suffer the worst, and volunteer to go on suffering under the illusion that their luck has changed. Paul Higgins is compelling as the architect of the fantasy, William Paterson. Imagined as a prototypical version of the messianic venture capitalist, his motto is "money makes money."

Occasionally the direction tries to eke too much comedy from the script: the only French character in the play is played as the classic comedy Frenchman, while the King's effete adviser is straight out of Blackadder. Sometimes the contemporary echoes (hinted at neatly enough in the characters' discussion of risk and finance) are forced on an audience who could have been trusted to spot them. Thankfully, the cast stops just short of turning en masse to the audience and yelling "See - it's about greedy bankers!"

But these iffy details are overwhelmed by the play's successes. This is a gripping account of a critical point in Scotland's history, brought alive by a grim appreciation for the way people are conned by charisma and by greed.