An Oak Tree – Brighton Corn Exchange

Writer: Tim Crouch

Directors: Tim Crouch, Karl James, Andy Smith

Performers: Tim Crouch, Ruth Wilson

Since it was first performed in 2005, Tim Crouch’s slick two-hander has gained a particular reputation as a play that rewards reviving and rewatching. Each performance features Crouch and a new actor who has never seen the play or read the script before. This conceit gives the piece a tension that exemplifies the magic of theatre, the bare fact that there are real people on stage in front of you, who may or may not get it right. Tonight’s performance features star of TV, film and stage, Ruth Wilson as the guest actor, and it’s a treat to see her craft blossoming before us in such a unique framework. 

As the play starts, all walls between actors, audience and writer are immediately broken down. Crouch explains what’s going on, how he and Wilson only met an hour before. He introduces her and tells her her name is Andy, she’s six foot two, unshaven, her hair is grey, and we see the process of an actor becoming a character before our very eyes. It’s a role that has been played by both men and women, but is especially fascinating when played by a woman. The demands are higher, the transformation more extreme.

Throughout, Crouch is multitasking as director and actor. At times, Wilson has a script to read from, at others, Crouch tells her what to say, but throughout he indicates what to do, where to stand, who to be. Whilst there is a fictional story being told, we are also privy to the dynamic between director and actor. The whole thing has the feel of a behind-the-scenes glimpse into a rehearsal, and we see the power the director has over the actor in a sometimes rather extreme way. 

Crouch has a cocky confidence as he bounces between giving direction and playing the character of a hypnotist who has lost his mojo. This big, broad, vulgar character contrasts with the meek, distraught Andy played by Wilson. At times, Wilson is led into some fairly exposing territory and one can almost imagine the director relishing this complete control. It’s challenging stuff, bordering on a kind of theatrical humiliation kink workshop. But like any good top, Crouch acknowledges this and checks in with Wilson, at one point running off the stage to get her a glass of water from the bar.

It’s of course an absolute treat to see Ruth Wilson on stage and furthermore to see her faultlessly sight-reading chunks of Crouch’s symbolic, grief-ridden text. She captures the quiet despair of what the character is going through with an understated but emotionally hard-hitting directness, a numbness rather than an outpouring. And this perhaps comes in part from her interpretation of a particularly male struggle to express emotion.

Runs until 1 November 2025