Point

I was at the National Theatre’s red shed this evening for An Oak Tree,  an extraordinary play. One of the two actors wrote the play; the other has had a briefing an hour beforehand but doesn't get to see the script until after the play has begun. The second character, obviously, is played each night by a different actor. I’m still unpacking the play's layers but, as the actors play their roles and play being actors, they look at reality and story, character and belief, death and grief.
 
Two of us loved it, one didn’t. As we sat talking about it on the terrace afterwards E spotted the second actor meeting his friends. I shouldn’t have, but I did, so got the chance to hear what it was like to act unimprovised and scripted only by the moment. Chook talked about the tension between the emotional (getting involved in a story that was new to him and his reactions to what he was expected to do) and his professionalism as an actor (don't be revolted/angry about being asked to do something humiliating on stage, just be an actor and act it). He generously answered my questions and said he’d still be thinking about the play for weeks to come. I’d hardly sat down again when E saw the writer buying a drink at the bar next to us. I shouldn’t have, but I did, and he told me about some of the ways – emotionally, physically – it is it is a different play at each performance.

I love theatre but I've been a bit jaded by what I've seen recently. This kicked me back into drama.
 
On till 15th July, Londoners, with very few tickets left.