Review: DERREN BROWN: ONLY HUMAN, Apollo Theatre

Earlier this week, critics were asked not to reveal the ending of Matthew Warchus’s latest attempt to resuscitate Martin Guerre. Now Derren Brown is telling us not to disclose anything that happens in Only Human. At this rate, by this time next week we may not be allowed to tell you the name of the show, where it is or who is in it.

We get that the elements of surprise and wonder sit at the top of magic’s periodic table. It is also by now a fact that Brown is the only British magician who can sell out a West End run on name recognition alone. This is, after all, the man has gone on live TV to play Russian roulette, simultaneously take on nine chess grandmasters and hold a séance. His mind tricks are legendary: through mental conditioning, subconscious influence and hypnosis, he has persuaded a stranger to “assassinate” Stephen Fry (with a gun loaded with blanks), convinced a whole town that a new statue was lucky and steered a group of strangers into a staged armed robbery of a security van.

After being taken on a lengthy tour of the UK and Ireland, Only Human comes to the West End as Brown’s first appearance since 2022’s Showman, a post-pandemic show filled with highly personal insights. Its follow-up Unbelievable saw Brown remain backstage as co-creator, writer and co-director (alongside Andy Nyman and Andrew O’Connor), with Simon Lipkin and a company of actor-musicians out front. (In a neat twist, Lipkin has set up home next door to The Apollo as Dickens’s arch-pickpocket Fagin in Oliver!)

Only Human falls somewhere between those two productions. Brown is present and correct this time around and has almost completely ditched the family history. In its place, he runs through a grab bag of loosely connected topics. French astrologer and prognosticator Nostradamus is invoked as Brown explores whether humans can really predict the future. Are prophecies worth listening to, or do they only have value when what they foretell comes to pass? That well-worn debate connects tangentially to electricity, and from there Brown widens out to a broad discussion on the nature of free will. By the two-hour mark, it feels like a Friday-afternoon A-level philosophy lesson with some conjuring thrown in because, well, why not?

Not that it is exactly torture to listen to him. Written by Brown, director Andrew O’Connor and Stephen Long, this is a show that bends to its star’s talents. Where some of his peers ramp up the tension with hyperbole and music better suited to a Tom Cruise flick, Brown keeps things remarkably grounded. His confident, intimate delivery belies the months of work behind what is his 11th stage outing. Rather than relying on tricks bought from the internet, each segment feels designed and honed with real care and precision. His creativity is clearest in a particularly theatrical sequence after the interval which some may find disturbing.

Jaws drop (almost inevitably), though not always in amazement. The longer Only Human goes on, the baggier and more yawnsome it gets. Watching Brown ponder free will while turning his considerable abilities to removing any from his volunteers becomes a tiring pattern. A few tricks add little to the loose overall concept. It doesn’t take Nostradamus to see some of the reveals coming, and not knowing what happens next is a crucial part of what this art form has to sell. His storytelling is as fluent as ever but lacks the more engaging material he rolled out in Showman. Too often it is like watching a musketeer spend 20 minutes casually loading his weapon, fire a spectacular shot in a predictable direction, then start loading all over again.

Worst of all, this is (by Brown’s own standards) fantastically tame. The man who once raised a pistol with a live round to his head on Channel 4 now closes his show by counting Smarties. The godfather of British magic has turned into its friendly uncle. The chief reveal is that Derren Brown may be past his peak.

Only Human continues at Apollo Theatre until 30 January 2027