★★★

“The little-known story is astounding and has a propulsive energy all its own.”

The rough-and-ready, make-do-and-mend, why-not-try-this approach of the early animation pioneers is both the style and subject of Akimbo Theatre’s rambunctious retelling of the Lotte Reiniger story.

And it is quite a story. Lotte, played with bags of undaunted pluck by Lexie Baker, has a dream of turning her delicate silhouettes into the first full-length animated feature. We are in Germany in the early 1920s. Walt Disney is still years away from Sleeping Beauty.

But Lotte will not be dissuaded, despite the prevailing sexual politics of the time – and the rise of Nazism.

Her first encounter with her eventual collaborators is straight out of The Big Bang Theory: cloistered nerds, obsessing over their art, unaccustomed to – and not happy about – this brilliant bright girl in their midst, small scissors round her neck ready to cut a silhouette of exquisite delicacy at the drop of a hat.

But they succumb to her enthusiasm, vision and craft, and soon they embark on a four-year project to create The Adventures of Prince Achmed, a full-length epic compiled one frame at a time, a project that would push the boundaries of the possible. Along the way, Lotte invents the multiplane camera – providing depth – long before Disney popularised the concept.

The five-strong troupe – Baker, Owen Bleach, Halvor Tangen Schultz, Flo Wiedenbach and Richard Durning – devise and perform the piece under Rosanna Mallinson’s robust direction. They hurl themselves into the febrile world of interwar Berlin: violence, Schnapps, love, chaos, debauchery and storyboards.

The ensemble throw everything at the piece – dance, slapstick, caricature, screeching. Some of it works, some of it drags when the frayed edges become more of the piece than the piece itself. The cabaret scene, for one, is a seemingly endless indulgence we could do without. We hanker to return to the studio, where the artists’ work is cleverly projected on a screen, giving beguiling glimpses of what the fuss was all about.

The second half takes a more sinister turn as the Nazi censor sees degeneracy in the fairy tale. He tries both to seduce the filmmaker to the Nazi cause and to drive her there through blackmail. These scenes should have a long-lens-of-history feel, but they are horribly present and uncomfortably familiar.

This hotchpotch of styles, carnivals and cavorting sometimes tests our patience, but the performers are never less than committed and joyous. The little-known story is astounding and has a propulsive energy all its own.

Like giddy schoolchildren at the end of a sugar-rush day, the cast settles down before the big screen. Everyone falls quiet, everyone sits still, everyone stares up, open mouthed. In a moving and enchanting moment of wonder and connection, we see a prince sail across the storm-tossed Arabian seas once more.

Breathtaking.

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.

THE ANIMATOR

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“The little-known story is astounding and has a propulsive energy all its own.”

THE ANIMATOR

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 21st August 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Luisa De la Concha Montes

Recent reviews from this venue:

THE ANIMATOR

THE ANIMATOR

THE ANIMATOR

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

@Sohoplace

★★★★★

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