Let's face the music

A much-loved play uncovers the eternal spring of hope, and other London treats

Lenny Henry in Every Brilliant Thing at @sohoplace. Photo: Helen Murray

I think, on the whole, Every Brilliant Thing, which is at @sohoplace until November 8, is a Very Good Thing.

What I’ve seen

TW: discussion of suicide

Of course I’m not the only one – Duncan Macmillan’s 2014 play has been endlessly revived, and played in more than 80 countries. Its messages, of which there are three, quite distinct but related, are universal: 1) that life is full of many, many small, brilliant things and together, they are a large part of what makes it worth living; 2) if you find you cannot connect to that joy, you must ask for help; and 3) that you can never, ever truly comprehend what drives someone to take their own life. I’ve talked about this before, I think, in relation to Sarah Kane’s 4.48 Psychosis.

Every Brilliant Thing is a one man or woman show – the gender of the protagonist, whom we meet aged 7 at the moment just after his (or her) mother has just made her first suicide attempt, is immaterial. This run will feature limited performances from Lenny Henry (on at the moment), Sue Perkins, Ambika Mod, Minnie Driver and Jonny Donahoe.

That all but one of these have a history of stand up comedy (and Minnie Driver is demonstrably hilarious) is not a coincidence – crowd work drives this narrative, in which our nameless narrator starts to construct a list of “every brilliant thing” in the world, to try to convince his mother (who is suffering from depression) that there is something worth living for.

Several audience members will be collared before the show into standing in for other characters, like a primary school teacher (if you get this one, make sure you can reel off two good, clean jokes) or a kindly vet, or reading out specific entries on the list of brilliant things when prompted (1. ice cream; 4. the colour yellow; 7. people falling over; 24. spaghetti bolognese; 201. hammocks; 517. knowing someone well enough to get them to check your teeth for broccoli; 729. eating mango in the bath; 996. really good oranges; 1160. peeling off a sheet of wallpaper in one intact piece; 3114. finding a ladybird on you; and so on).

Which makes it sound excruciating, but actually, in this marvellous little in-the-round theatre, creates a precious atmosphere of camaraderie and support, and allows the audience to respond in a heartfelt way that is really lovely to be part of.

As we follow our hero through his or her young life, through school, university and beyond, falling in love along the way, we mark how a childhood in the care of a depressive can affect a person, how it heightens their emotional responses; how depression can creep up on you; how hard it is to live with, for the depressed and their loved ones. It’s very funny, very sweet, and very moving.

Henry is a warm, amiable presence, and a good choice for this show, even if he was way off his lines on opening night – you could see him repeatedly losing the thread, but he tumbled cheerfully through it, asking for help (appropriately) from the production team, who are seated visibly in the corners, and cushioned by the vast amount of goodwill and affection that comes from being Lenny Henry.