EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

★★★★★

“The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency”

They are the most dreaded two words in the English language after perhaps “world war” and “admin fee”.

Audience participation.

Eek.

But don’t worry, in this atmosphere of non-judgmental glee, you’re in safe hands. The host is the genial Lenny Henry, comedy legend and close personal friend, or so it always seems.

This is vital. Because volunteers relax, lean in and Henry creates an atmosphere of ramshackle fun.

And, besides, mostly the guests are pre-selected. In a wonderful innovation, the star wanders around pre-show, chatting, meeting the audience and selecting his co-stars based on decades of experience reading an audience.

The worldwide phenomenon that is Every Brilliant Thing began life in 2006 as a short monologue Duncan Macmillan wrote for actor Rosie Thomson. Co-director George Perrin encouraged him to expand it, and the pair gathered hundreds of “brilliant things” from a Facebook group. Comedian Jonny Donahoe later pioneered its interactive style – he takes over from Henry later in August.

It premiered in its full form at the 2014 Edinburgh Festival Fringe before transferring internationally to over 80 countries. While the events in the play sound autobiographical, they are crowdsourced. They draw on genuine experiences, research, and real audience contributions, so that’s why it feels so authentic. It’s not true and gob-smackingly true at the same time.

Audience members play parts large and small: his girlfriend, his father, the librarian (with sock puppet Graham). Their real-life sincerity dealing with the character’s woes melts hearts. Others, dotted around the auditorium, read out cue cards of “every brilliant thing” when their list number is read out.

The narrative begins on 9 November 1965, when our character, aged seven, finds himself in hospital because his mother, a chronic depressive, has tried to kill herself. His artless solution is to write a list of every brilliant thing that might persuade his mum to stay on this earth.

“One…” calls out Lenny Henry.

“Ice cream,” says a man reading from his cue card.

And so on…

His mother survives but does not shake off her illness and over decades the list grows from the original target of 1,000 to one million.

The character’s own life is a simple story of growing up, moving away, meeting a girl and living with the legacy of a suicidal mother while coping with the illness himself.

It is part lecture on mental health, part improv night, part alchemic magic show. Henry creates such a remarkable sense of supportive goodwill that when he announces he – a shy lad – has kissed a girl, the audience whoops, as though their BFF has just made the revelation on the group chat.

Lenny Henry plays this part for now. Others take over in the run, including Minnie Driver and Sue Perkins. Wonderful though they will likely be, it will be a challenge to top Henry’s masterful control. He has to act, yes, but also direct a troupe of amateurs. From this, there is random blundering and Henry’s improv instincts and natural charm let him ramp up the fun exponentially.

The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency. Laughter through tears: the sweet spot of teachable moments.

Summary? Let’s return to that exhaustive list of every brilliant thing.

9994: Smiling so much that your cheeks hurt.

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

Reviewed on 7th August 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Helen Murray

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE FIFTH STEP | ★★★★ | May 2025

A CHRISTMAS CAROL(ISH) | ★★★★ | November 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: CLOSING TIME | ★★★★ | August 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: DELROY | ★★★★★ | July 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: MICHAEL | ★★★★★ | July 2024

THE LITTLE BIG THINGS | ★★★★ | September 2023

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN | ★★★★★ | May 2023

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

★★★★★

“a gripping performance that shoots up right into our bloodstream”

In Duncan Macmillan’s unsettling play, “People, Places and Things”, we are taken headlong into the mind of an addict in forensic detail. Without the need of a surgeon’s eye glass or scalpel we witness the outer layers being peeled back by the incisive dialogue, the razor-sharp acting. But also Jeremy Herrin’s staging which is inseparable from Bunny Christie’s set design that pulses throughout to the distorted and fractured rhythms of the protagonist’s identity. Identities even, whether they are true or false. We are never sure, and neither is she. How can you lie about who or what you are when you believe there is no truth to begin with?

‘She’ is Nina, drunkenly murdering Chekhov’s iconic dialogue. But then she is Emma, taking a line of cocaine before reluctantly checking into rehab. Then again, she might not even be Emma. One thing we are certain of, though, is the sheer, brutal brilliance of Denise Gough’s portrayal of this complex and compelling character. We cannot escape her, trapped as she is in Christie’s white tiled set with its hidden doors and camouflaged ventilation grids that allow little breathing space. It bursts into chaotic crashes of techno nightlife before melting back into the mundane sobriety of a rehab clinic. Everything is an extension of her mind, even the people.

A running gag is the fact that Emma’s therapist and doctor are the spitting image of her mother. Sinéad Cusack gives a stunning performance in all three roles including the mother, highlighting the contrasts and the similarities of each character. The therapist’s ‘cruel-to-be-kind’ approach offset by the mother’s bitter, beaten, and threadbare love for a daughter she thinks doesn’t deserve it. Similarly, Kevin McMonagle doubles as a crazed rehab patient, re-emerging as Emma’s father in Act Two. There is no moralising here. Just a bare dissection of grief in the wake of a dead son and brother.

The fall out of addiction is the core of the piece, and we see it through Emma’s eyes. Macmillan offers no judgement whatsoever as each aspect is picked apart. Gough takes us on an authentic journey through the milestones of denial, anger, anxiety, paranoia, truculence, withdrawal. A personality shattered into many shards, none of them trustworthy or trusting. Nightmares unfold before her eyes as Emma emerges in multiple forms, crawling from the walls, out of the bed, twitching and spinning around her until you can’t really tell which one is the real Emma. James Farncombe’s lighting plunges us into Emma’s drug-fuelled blackouts with a ferociousness matched by Tom Gibbons’ soundscape.

Mercifully there is hope. Malachi Kirby, as fellow user Mark, describes himself as a ’scream in search of a mouth’ but ends up working at the clinic as a volunteer. He has more than a second sight. All knowing, he helps pull the truth from Emma as she eventually tries to ‘come clean’ – in all senses of the word. Not everybody is so lucky. We learn how profoundly difficult it is for the addict to avoid the people, places and things that can, at any time, trigger a relapse. The emotional confrontations are frighteningly true to life and at times devastating. Yet the miracle is that there is still plenty of room for humour, and the central theme of addiction steps back once in a while to let these multi-layered personalities fill the stage. There is a humanity in all the performances that transcends the subject matter. Yet it is always there, as a grim and palpitating pulse. And at its heart is Gough – in a gripping performance that shoots up right into our bloodstream. The play is truly addictive.

Tag Archives: Duncan Macmillan

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

★★★★★

Sohoplace

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

★★★★★

“The contrast between melancholy and hilarity is the essence of the production’s potency”