In the superb production of the solo play Every Brilliant Thing opening tonight on Broadway, the unstoppable Daniel Radcliffe plays the troubled but tenacious son of a woman whose long stretches of bedridden depression are broken only by her frequent outbursts of self-harm. In a heartfelt (and heartbreaking) effort to give his mom some sort of hope, Radcliffe’s unnamed narrator character begins a childhood project that will stretch throughout his life: He starts a list of all the things that make life worth living and gives this remarkable work its title.
Few who see this production will begrudge the play and its star a spot on that list.
Written with intelligence and great heart by Duncan Macmillan with Jonny Donahoe (who starred in the original 2014 Off Broadway production that was filmed for a 2016 HBO special) and impeccably directed by Jeremy Herrin & Macmillan, this West End transfer secures the once and always Harry Potter firmly in the upper stratosphere of Broadway actors (just in case Merrily We Roll Along didn’t already do that). Radcliffe bounds around the Hudson Theatre stage, configured as an in-the-round space, like a pinball in play, conducting the audience like he’s leading an orchestra. You’d have to look to his Merrily co-star Jonathan Groff as Bobby Darin in Just In Time to find a current Broadway performance so thoroughly fortified by an actor’s prodigious charisma.
And word of advice to ticket-holders: Make sure to arrive early to watch the indefatigable Radcliffe work his way through the smitten crowd to enlist the many participants who, once the show proper starts, will contribute greatly to the storyline. Through an ingeniously devised and executed call-and-response set-up, audience members shout out each of the entries on the narrator’s very long list of “brilliant things,” from generic childhood favorites like ice cream, rollercoasters and water fights to such increasingly specific gems as the way Ray Charles yowls the word “you” in “Drown In My Own Tears” and the smell following a much-needed rain (an odor, I learned, that’s called petrichor).
Radcliffe on stage at the Hudson Theatre
Matthew Murphy
The conceit gives Radcliffe some leeway in his interactions with the audience participants – one of whom, at the reviewed performance, was the actor’s The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins co-star Tracy Morgan, who shouted out his one line with an anonymous and uncharacteristic restraint that couldn’t stop the audience laughter at his immediately recognizable voice.
Every Brilliant Thingthough, certainly does not require famous or experienced actors in the audience. A big part of the fun (and some surprisingly poignant moments) comes with the untrained enthusiasm and good-sport-nature of people delighting in co-starring, however briefly and fleetingly, with a pro as beloved as Radcliffe. He’s charming with each and every one, sweetly coaxing and encouraging, especially with the audience members who are given larger roles (sometimes on the stage area) than the list-readers (we can assume their bigger roles were discussed, however quickly, during Radcliffe’s pre-show schmoozing).
In fact, Radcliffe is so smooth in his performance, and his ease with both his character and those watching him, that it’s not always easy to discern what is improvised: In a bit that required an audience member who had a book in her possession, Radcliffe, seeing the Twilight novel, quipped a line about the dangers of turning books into movies, a Harry Potter reference that spread through the audience within seconds.
The plot is simple and straightforward: The narrator recalls a lonely, if spirited, childhood with a desperately troubled mother and a loving if uncomprehending father, his awkwardness and isolation made bearable by the books that a kindly and sympathetic librarian recommends (yes, she’s an audience member).
Radcliffe works the crowd
Matthew Murphy
Determined to avoid the depression and suicidal tendencies that he fears are his birthright, the narrator, as a boy, begins his life-is-worth-living list, a roster that he decides to share with his unhappy mom and that, during his lifetime, will grow to include hundreds of thousands of entries. In one of the play’s loveliest moments, the narrator unwittingly shares his secret project with his college crush, a young woman named Sam who responds in such a compassionate and simpatico manner that a life together is all but assured.
Alas, their initially happy romance and marriage can’t quite withstand the feared and seemingly inevitable arrival of crushing depression (the couple’s big black dog, we’re told, trails the narrator’s every move to such a degree that Sam names him Metaphor, a nice example of the wit and wordplay that girds the entire production).
This review won’t spoil what comes for the narrator, his wife, his mom and dad and his list (except to say regarding the latter that we do eventually get a peek at the many, many scraps of paper that reflect a lifetime of note-jotting, and the moment is a wonderful bit of theater).
In that scene, and throughout Every Brilliant Thing, Radcliffe has such a direct, amiable connection to the audience that we gladly follow along as the narration goes, occasionally, from naturally conversational to explicitly PSA, as the character – and, by extension, the playwright – deliver a how-to for the media when reporting on depression and, more pointedly, suicide. (Producers Second Half Productions, Seaview, and Gavin Kalin Productions have partnered with mental health nonprofit Project Healthy Minds on this production).
“Avoid dramatic headlines, terms like ‘suicide epidemic’ or ‘hot spot,’” our narrator cautions. “Avoid sensationalist pictures or video. Avoid excessive detail. Avoid using the word ‘commit.’ Don’t describe deaths by suicide as ‘successful.’ Don’t publish suicide notes. Don’t publish on the front page. Don’t ignore the complex realities of suicide and its impacts on those left behind. Include references to support groups, such as the Samaritans. Don’t speculate on the reason. Don’t supply simplistic reasons such as ‘he’d lost his job’ or ‘she’d recently become bankrupt.’ We can never truly know ‘why.’”
Radcliffe is costumed (by Vicki Mortimer, who also designed the effective boxing-ring style set) in a purple sweatshirt that, at least during the reviewed performance, he was perspiring through by the show’s half-way point (there is no intermission). And that is the only way he lets us see him sweat, so seemingly easy does he move through all the moods and feels of what must be a taxing endeavor. Every Brilliant Thing is unsparing and clear-eyed in its presentation of the realities of depression and suicide, yet glows with a hopeful, life-affirming aura that convincingly depicts the value of struggle, and the beauty in tenacity.
If you or anyone you know are having thoughts of suicide, call or text 988 to reach the National Suicide & Crisis Lifeline
Title: Every Brilliant Thing
Venue: Broadway’s Hudson Theatre
Written By: Duncan Macmillan with Jonny Donahoe
Directed By: Jeremy Herrin & Duncan Macmillan
Cast: Daniel Radcliffe
Running Time: 1 hr 10 min (no intermission)
