Tag Archives: Tom Gibbons

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

★★★★★

Sohoplace

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

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

EVERY BRILLIANT THING

MANHUNT

★★★★

Royal Court

MANHUNT

Royal Court

★★★★

“Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force”

Behind a metallic, gauze curtain a figure paces back and forth. Shaven headed. His shadow follows him across the vertical wall of the translucent screen – a projected alter ego pursuing its prey, fuelling the claustrophobic motions of the man’s repetitive circuit. His behaviour is erratic yet painfully routine. It’s like watching a captive animal through the bars of a zoo’s enclosure.

A flash of brilliant white light releases him to tell his story. It’s a story that dominated the front pages and caught the public imagination during the summer of 2010. That of the major police operation across Tyne and Wear – the manhunt for fugitive Raoul Moat. The ex-prisoner was on the run for nearly a week after a killing spree, ending with a six-hour standoff with armed police and Moat’s suicide. It was a story that landed in the lap of journalist Andrew Hankinson whose subsequent book inspired Robert Icke’s brutal and challenging one-act play. The overriding word on our lips is ‘why?’

“Manhunt” doesn’t offer any answers, but it poses the question from every angle, looking at the horrific events through the eyes of the victims and the perpetrator, often begging us to ask which is which. Icke’s writing and direction steer the narrative in a cyclical fashion, swinging between flashbacks and the present. It is often Kafkaesque in its approach as Moat fights a system he believes has been against him since birth. Whether we are supposed to be or not, we are drawn into Moat’s own tragedy as much as his victim’s which is unsettling to say the least. Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force that reinforces this with a warped honesty as he tries to justify himself. All the while he is surrounded by figures from his past and present: the judges and juries that accuse him of hitting his daughter; the ex-partner; his childhood self, locked in his room by his unstable mother; the father he never knew; social workers; friends, accomplices and detractors, and most importantly his victims. A poignant extended blackout heightens a first-hand account from a police officer he randomly shot and blinded in a cold-hearted act of revenge.

The supporting cast who play the multiple roles are as equally compelling as Edward-Cook, if not as frightening. This could well have been a one man show along the lines of the recent ‘Kenrex’, which follows similar themes, but the ensemble here fleshes out the account and adds a distinct and welcome light and shade. There is occasional confusion during moments when we are unsure that what we are witnessing is in Moat’s mind or in reality. Hallucinations overlap real life too often, yet it all adds to the unease, and we are constantly left unsure who to believe. So rather than collude with anybody we end up trusting no one. An unsatisfactory and dangerous position to be in, but one that maybe Icke is trying to spotlight.

Danger is an undercurrent that bursts to the surface constantly. Edward-Cook’s manic, wild-eyed stare cements this. He is a drowning man watching his life flash before him. Azusa Ono’s lighting evokes the episodes with haunting atmosphere, from the coldness of a prison cell to the campfire warmth of his last hiding place in the Northumbrian countryside. Here Moat talks to fellow Geordie, Paul Gascoigne before confronting his estranged father and being consoled by a doting grandmother. It is all unreal, but it helps him unearth the truth of his nature. There is only one conclusion. Justice takes a back seat while cause and effect – action and reaction – take centre stage.

At the time, Moat was famously labelled a ‘callous murderer… end of story’. Which is arguably the case. This play appears to challenge that assumption, but Icke’s writing is as ambiguous as the history as he tries to dig deeper. But there is no avoiding the fact that Moat was a big, strong man who used violence against those who were weaker than him. He lied, he lacked control, and he tried to justify his actions that ruined and ended lives. It is not a good story. However, Icke turns it into a breath-taking piece of theatre. We might wonder why he chose to do so, but we are enthralled and disturbed by the experience, and the performances will stick in our minds for quite a while. A gripping production. End of story.

MANHUNT

Royal Court

Reviewed on 8th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A GOOD HOUSE | ★★★★ | January 2025
THE BOUNDS | ★★★ | June 2024
LIE LOW | ★★★★ | May 2024
BLUETS | ★★★ | May 2024
GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024
COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024
MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023
CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023
BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

MANHUNT