Ten minutes into An Oak Tree, I realized I had seen it before, at the Odyssey Theatre in L.A., back in 2010. No matter. The play, written and performed by Tim Crouch, is not only a powerful work but one that has a fresh angle each time it is performed. Crouch, as he explains in introductory remarks, works with a different co-star every night. He meets with that person—tonight it's the actress Lucy Ellinson, a member of the UK's Third Angel company—about an hour before curtain. Copies of the script are handed over, and there is a brief discussion concerning intent and staging. Then the action begins.
Crouch then takes on the persona of a hypnotist, full of banter and wisecracks as he works the audience in search of potential foils. Several (imaginary) ones are chosen and rejected; finally he settles on Lucy and puts her under (mock) hypnosis.
In his power now, Lucy becomes, successively, a pianist giving an Albert Hall concert, a woman who shits herself in public, then a 41-year-old man named Albert whose brief driving lapse resulted in a crash which killed his young daughter. An oak tree stands by the side of the (again, imaginary) road, marking the spot of the accident.
From then on, reality and unreality collide, mix, separate and mix again, with Crouch pulling Lucy's strings like a diabolical puppeteer. In his hands, An Oak Tree turns darker and darker, becomes a deeply tragic and painful tale, one that bravely looks death in the face.
Crouch, a masterful actor and writer, is at the top of his form here (with the help of his co-directors, Karl James and Andy Smith). Lucy Ellinson gives him admirable support as well.
This production of An Oak Tree is a tenth-anniversary revival; the play was first performed at the Traverse in 2005. It will transfer to the Bristol Old Vic in September and the Warwick Arts Centre in November.
