An Oak Tree
Young Vic, London
★★★★☆
An Oak Tree unpicks what it means to make-believe. Returning for a 20th-anniversary production, Tim Crouch’s tricksy two-hander sees him toy with a guest star who has never seen the script before they are fed it, piece by piece, in front of an audience.
Thrumming with liveness as it tells a story of grief, the play illuminates the manipulation and the wonder of the way stories transform us.
Inspired by Michael Craig-Martin’s 1973 conceptual artwork that insists a glass of water is an oak tree, Crouch’s theatrical illusion talks things into being. He tells us a piano stool is an oak tree and an oak tree is a girl, so each insistence becomes true. He tells us his guest is a grieving father, and suddenly what we can see cracks in two.
By layering these suggestions, he highlights the wizardry of any actor walking on to any stage, saying they are a character and asking us to believe them.
I wrote down all my relationships and why they ended: ‘I cheated’, ‘he cheated’
‘It’s a stunning setting for any cafe, but this one has extra-special credentials’
Met Gala 2025 in pictures: Barry Keoghan and Andrew Scott fly Irish flag while Diana Ross leads with opulence
Adam Loughnane asked for help at a Galway hospital. Three hours later he was dead
The script is always the same, but, with a different second actor each night, every performance is unique. On Tuesday night we are gifted Jessie Buckley, laughter spilling out between her allotted lines. Crouch is a showman, handing the Irish star her scripts on clipboards and feeding her lines, asking if she’s okay then telling her to say yes.
As we watch her, she watches him, the trust and determination and delight evident in the sideways lean of her smile. It becomes a game between them, but never to the point of excluding us.
Underneath the absurdity of the conceit, the story’s sadness is a butterfly net chasing us through the show, fluttering at our backs until it swallows us whole. Buckley’s speech about losing a child, given to her one line at a time as Crouch stands in the shadows, gains extra poignancy as she holds her pregnant belly.
The play’s manipulation – of the actor’s freedom, of our feelings – is deliberate and all-knowing. The wonder of the performance lies in the way Crouch appears to point back at what he has done, drawing our attention to the architecture of the action. He is a scientist explaining his technique, a magician rolling up his sleeves, a puppeteer showing us how he pulls the strings.
He tells us it’s not real and still we insist that it is. He lays bare the act of making theatre. – Guardian
An Oak Tree is at the Young Vic, London, until Saturday, May 24th
