Let’s just say it’s not every night that I walk away from a theatre wondering whether I should get myself a copy of I Love Dick, an epistolary novel with its own Wikipedia page (which is how I found out it’s an epistolary novel). It was, you see, the choice of reading material for someone in the audience at a performance of Every Brilliant Thing, which utilised objects already in the possession of patrons as props (all duly returned within minutes of being borrowed), which added an extra layer of inclusiveness, at least if you were sat downstairs. A special shout out, then, to an audience member invited on stage (spoiler: he agreed to do so before the show started) who very deliberately made eye contact with patrons sat in what the venue calls the First Balcony and the Second Balcony, to cheering and applause.
As you know, Minnie Driver is known for her extensive work in film and television. In a West End theatre, in a show that includes so much interaction with the audience that the house lights are dimmed but not turned off throughout, she comes across as being very comfortable with dealing with the public. Not every bit of audience participation goes as planned: one man, assigned with the task of asking ‘why?’ repeatedly in the manner of a prepubescent and inquisitive child, somehow failed to do so. #YouHadOneJob.
Before the show, a number of patrons are given a card. Each one contains an entry on a list of ‘every brilliant thing’ (geddit?) that Driver’s unnamed character has thought of over time. The list contains some physical items but is largely comprised of experiences, feelings and positive outcomes, such as making a train connection in the nick of time or “deciding you’re not too old to climb trees”. At some point in the show, their number is called, and they must project whatever the card says. The results were, to put it diplomatically, variable.
It’s a longitudinal story, beginning in the character’s childhood and continuing on for several decades. Driver’s delivery was nuanced, even understated, giving the show a living room ambience. There’s much humour in the play, though it also deals with some deep-seated issues, particularly suicide and mental wellbeing. I was handed a leaflet from the Samaritans on the way out. The central message of the play itself, without being saccharine or sentimental, is that life is worth living, and living to the full. This is a powerful and poignant exploration of grief. A testament to the power of storytelling, it’s a worthwhile experience.
Review by Chris Omaweng
You’re seven years old. Mum’s in hospital. Dad says she’s ‘done something stupid’. She finds it hard to be happy. You start a list of everything that’s brilliant about the world. Everything worth living for. You leave it on her pillow. You know she’s read it because she’s corrected your spelling.
A child attempts to ease their mother’s depression by creating a list of all the best things in the world. Through adulthood, as the list grows, they learn the deep significance it has on their own life. Every Brilliant Thing is a comedy about the lengths we will go for those we love.
Cast: Lenny Henry, Jonny Donahoe, Ambika Mod, Sue Perkins, Minnie Driver.
This is a one person play and the cast will perform in rotation.
Writer – Duncan Macmillan
Co-Directors – Jeremy Herrin and Duncan Macmillan
Set and Costume Design – Vicki Mortimer
Lighting Design – Jack Knowles
Sound Design – Tom Gibbons
Casting Director – Jessica Ronane CDG
EVERY BRILLIANT THING
@sohoplace
1 August to 8 November 2025
