If grief is the price we pay for love, then Every Brilliant Thing is the receipt lovingly crumpled and stuffed into a back pocket.
If grief is the price we pay for love, then Every Brilliant Thing is the receipt lovingly crumpled and stuffed into a back pocket.
Born from the artistic melting pot that is the Edinburgh Fringe, Duncan MacMillian’s bittersweet one person show may have conquered the world with international adaptions. But it hasn’t enjoyed the fireworks of Fleabag, can’t claim the popularity of SIX, hasn’t grabbed the same headlines as Baby Reindeer. Could a West End transfer bring it the attention it deserves?
Though deceptively simple it demands a delicate balancing act from whoever steps into the limelight. We start with an unnamed narrator at seven years old visiting their mother after her first suicide attempt – childish naivety making sense of the weight of grief. It sparks him to draw up a list: a compendium of life’s small joys forged to make sense of their mother’s depression, a love letter to the mundane, the beautiful but forgettable things that slip through the web of our busy lives. Everything from ‘Ice Cream’ to ‘people falling over’ to ‘vinyl records’ feature.

MacMillian’s writing is light touch, kept efficiently restrained to let our imaginations fill in the gaps. The nameless narrator grows up, navigates university and relationships. The list returns every growing, to help him traverse the sometimes rocky terrain of mental health, depression, and anxiety.
But it’s the irresistible which takes centre stage, propelled by Lenny Henry whose eases out disarming charm and finely tuned comic instinct. Years as a standup and entertainer have left him with a cosy on stage ease. He teases, flirts, dances, never missing a beat or breaking a sweat. He is alone on stage, audience surrounding him - @sohoplace is suitably intimate, blurring the line between stand-up gig, theatre, and therapy session.
Where other performers have leaned into the childlike innocence of the narrator, Henry opts instead for something heavier. Memories are explored with emotional clarity rather than nostalgic whimsy, a choice that lends this iteration a quiet gravity that avoids sentimentality.

It premiered in 2014, and the years do show. Conversations around mental health enjoy the prominence they long deserved to the extent that the play’s more polemical moments no longer land with quite the same force. That in itself is a testament to Macmillan’s prescience in sounding these notes before they became part of the mainstream chorus. And, in any case, some truths bear repeating.
Every Brilliant Thing plays at Soho Place until 8 November-the show contains themes of suicide and depression. Age recommendation 12+.
This is a one person play, and the cast will perform in rotation so check the information and dates when booking.
Photo Credits: Helen Murray