Theatre review: Every Brilliant Thing engages its audience in innovative ways

At the Arts Club, solo performer Naomi Wright adeptly offers a lighthearted route into heavier subject matter

Naomi Wright in Every Brilliant Thing. Photo by Moonrider Productions

 
 

The Arts Club Theatre Company presents Every Brilliant Thing at the Newmont Stage at the BMO Theatre Centre until March 3

 

BEFORE THE CURTAIN rises on Every Brilliant Thing, solo performer Naomi Wright approaches unsuspecting audience members, slipping them a piece of paper and a simple set of instructions. Each numbered index card has a quick note on it. When the right time rolls around, Wright makes a warm request: share what the note says with everyone in the theatre.

Taking audience involvement to entertaining and heartfelt new heights, Every Brilliant Thing explores grief and resilience, digging into what makes life worth living. And what might that be? With the help of the recruited participants, the play launches into a collection of simple joys: ice cream, water fights, chocolate, peeing in the ocean….These are the things that Wright’s unnamed character starts to catalogue at the age of seven. Weaving audience participation into her narration, she reveals the list's origins as an effort to lift her mother's spirits after a suicide attempt. Starting from the innocence and confusion at seven, the performance navigates through other key stages in the protagonist’s life—frustration in her teenage years, the flush of love in university, and reflections as a Gen-X adult. Through each chapter, the list keeps growing, sometimes resonating with a laugh—“knowing someone well enough to get them to check your teeth for broccoli”—or with unassuming insight—“the strange comfort in accepting that a situation is beyond your control.”

Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe’s play unfolds crucial moments of the protagonist’s life—confusion at seven, frustration in her teenage years, the flush of love in university, and reflections as a Gen-X adult—as the list grows, becoming more nuanced and intimately personal, even as it faces pauses through the rollercoaster of her own challenges.

Apart from shouting lines out, spectators are very much on the hook as Wright scans the crowd, selecting a handful to take on a short but crucial roles: a vet administering a lethal injection to her childhood dog, Sherlock Bones (her first brush with death); her emotionally distant father; a compassionate elementary school counsellor; a university lecturer; and Sam, her eventual spouse whom she meets during university.

For a production like this to hit the mark, it needs an actor who can step up to the plate—able to tune in and carry the energy of the room. Wright does it valiantly, at times darting across the stage or racing up and down seat aisles to engage the audience from every direction. She brings with her an approachable sincerity that steers clear of making things feel gimmicky or patronizing. Instead, she lets the endearingly awkward, spontaneously witty, and unexpectedly touching moments that come from audience participation shine through. At one moment, the audience member playing the school counsellor receives a call from the protagonist during a rough patch. The catch? She's supposed to remove her sock to animate her counselling puppet. Cue the laughter, which hit a peak when the audience member pointed out “But you can’t see it over the phone."

Ashlie Corcoran’s sleek direction, the inviting, laid-back vibe of Stephanie Wong’s living room set, and Itai Erdal’s no-fuss lighting allow the immersive experience of the show to remain front and centre. This brings an exciting edge, like the thrill (or dread) of being picked for a surprise role in a magic show. Whether you're eager to be part of the act or hoping to blend into the background, there’s no denying that you’re engaged.

Whether it offers a deep exploration of mental health is up for debate, but the play has a special ability to capture and resonate. At its core, the story begins with a child’s confusion over her mother’s lack of will to live, but it moves beyond that. It's about a kid's imaginative attempt to brighten up some dark family situations and, as she matures, her conscious journey to go through life with gratitude as her pillar.

Easing the taboo surrounding a heavy subject without diluting its impact is a tricky balance, and the show's accessible format meets that challenge cleverly. The overall positive and light-hearted tone is a gentle lead into the deeper, universal emotions we not only come to share with the unnamed character, but also with our fellow theatre-goers.

Even if interactive plays aren't usually your cup of tea, this one deserves a look for its inventive, warm, and uplifting approach.  

 
 

 
 
 

Related Articles