LUU TG’s 'Every Brilliant Thing'

Editor - Imogen Banfield (she/her):

On the evenings of the 7-9th November, three different actors took to stage as the storyteller in Duncan MacMillan's Every Brilliant Thing with LUU Theatre Group. Each night was attended by a different LIPPY reviewer in the hopes of creating a collaborative review. Therefore, each of them experienced a different, but equally emotive, portrayal of the character. MacMillan's play follows the storyteller as they reflect on the creation of a list of every brilliant thing that they began as a child in response to their mother's attempted suicide. They use the list as a way of willing their mother to stay alive, yet they themselves learn so much from it.

By the time I'd met with Nina, Annie and Evie to create the review, it had been two weeks since the show. Yet, the ease at which our conversation surrounding the performances flowed, solidified for me the lasting impact this play will have on all of us.

Thursday – Ben Greenwood (he/him), reviewed by Annie Salisbury (she/her):

From the moment the lights dimmed, Ben Greenwood commanded the stage on the opening night of Every Brilliant Thing. Playful yet poignant, his performance beautifully balanced humour with heartbreak. While the play’s set design, production, and music were all outstanding, it was Ben’s portrayal of the storyteller that, for me, was truly brilliant. 

What makes this production brilliant is that it’s more than a play – it’s an experience. Ben doesn’t simply act; he invites you in, hands you a slip of paper, and seamlessly makes you a part of the story. Whether it’s reading aloud a ‘brilliant thing’ like “seeing a rainbow after a storm” or, as happened on opening night, an audience member playing his ‘dad’ giving a hilariously understated wedding speech (“He’s a good lad, isn’t he”), the audience interaction feels so natural you almost forget it’s improvised. Even potentially awkward moments – such as a scene where an audience member playing his ‘girlfriend’ is supposed to kiss him – are avoided with Ben’s perfect timing. “Let’s kiss later,” he quipped, diffusing any tension with a laugh.

Ben’s true brilliance lies in his emotional subtlety. He shifts effortlessly between a bubbly child adding to his list of ‘brilliant things’ and a young man grappling with the shadow of his mother’s depression. One moment he’s darting across the stage, bouncing on his toes; the next, he’s heartbreakingly still. It’s in these quiet moments – a hesitant smile, a vacant stare – that Ben reveals the profound depth of his character. These sharp contrasts reflect the up-and-down rhythm of his mother’s struggles – and life itself. The fear that “one day [he may] feel as low as [his] Mum” lingers over his performance, and Ben captures this with beautiful subtlety.

Then, there’s the music. Of all the ‘brilliant things’ that bring the storyteller joy, music takes centre stage. From memories of his father blasting Curtis Mayfield’s ‘Move on Up’ to the sombre strains of Billie Holiday’s Gloomy Sunday after his mother’s funeral, each song marks a beat in the narrator’s emotional journey. Ben’s reactions – crossed arms, closed eyes, a wistful smile – turn every note into an expression of his character’s emotion, inviting the audience to feel what he feels.

The closing scene adds an especially personal touch, as each lead actor chooses their own final song. Ben’s choice, Pale Blue Eyes by The Velvet Underground, with its refrain – “Sometimes I feel so happy, sometimes I feel so sad” – captures the play’s essence perfectly. Ben explained, “For me, the song has always felt warm and honest.” And really, what better way to sum up his performance? Warm, honest, and undeniably, brilliant.

Friday - Becky Hughes (she/her), reviewed by Evie Yates (she/her):

From the beginning of the performance, the audience was completely captivated. Every movement and action choice was acted on with complete confidence, with such a high level of energy both physically and vocally. Becky’s strong portrayal of the character was paired with the most beautiful comedic timing; her quick-witted ad-libs and humorous take on the character had myself and the audience exploding with laughter at each audience interaction. The atmosphere was thick and the tension almost palpable as she plunged the audience member into this heart-rendering journey. Becky’s emotional build into the storyteller’s darkest moments was vehemently spectacular with complete raw vulnerability that was so gently heartbreaking. The fluidity in her ability to move from this confident persona to breaking down in front of her childhood therapist in a soft, childlike way was so moving, the devastation was seen within the audience's faces, tears glistening in everyone's eyes. 

Malachy O’ Callaghan's choice of the intimate in-the-round staging allowed this to be the most special and beautiful shared experience. It was clear that so much time and love from the production team had gone into its creation. It felt as if we, both the audience and narrator, had been bonded in this journey of loss, love, grief and the overall desire to cling to hope. With the powerful use of in-the-round, a beautiful sense of community was created as I felt each member of the audience share in both the storyteller’s victories and crushing defeats.  

As the narrator described her 1 millionth beautiful thing - listening to a record for the first time - the soft sounds of One of these Things First by Nick Cave gently crept in and post-it notes, letters and all kinds of scrap pieces of paper fell from the ceiling, each with their own brilliant thing written on. Hughes received a standing ovation and everyone in the audience began to hug each other, reveling in this huge release of energy from such a powerful performance and the strong sense of love over the experience we all collectively had. Each audience member lingered within the theatre, taking the time to admire the set and add their own brilliant thing to the washing line of post-its that had been created, prompting us to consider all the precious moments that make life worth living and a reminder to look for them more in our everyday. Everyone resisted leaving, not quite ready to forget the experience we had all shared, wanting to remain in this heartbreakingly exquisite space for just a little while longer. It was safe to say there wasn’t a single dry eye in the room. 

Saturday – Naomi Poole (she/they), reviewed by Nina Mul (she/her):

I was lucky enough to see the final night of the play, which was so beautifully performed by Naomi Poole. Entering the space, I thought the choice to put the show in the round was a productive one. The sense of closeness with the wider audience, all facing each other in a well-lit circle, was a nice touch. Credit to Evie Cowen for this choice, as it really fuelled the wider sense of intimacy that was so sincerely cultivated by Naomi. The warm, hanging lights and piled-up rugs in the centre created an inviting and homely atmosphere, which was a solid foundation for the emotional underbelly of the play.

Naomi was absolutely electric as the storyteller, bundling us all safely into her world and guiding us through a touching and emotionally poignant show. Their performance was as organic as it was honest, deftly navigating their way through moments of levity directly into more raw, emotional spots. Transitions between these were seamless, and a real testament to the quality of their craft. Naomi imbued her movements with a kinetic, almost irrepressible energy – bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet and striding about the space. Her complete control of this youthful dynamism was more than apparent, however, always knowing when to dial it down within quieter moments of the play.

It was a beautiful performance, and a carefully constructed explosion of joy in the face of misery. I thought her final standing ovation was more than deserved, and a very touching way to finish such an intimate and emotional play. Having watched the show with my housemate, it has since started a tradition of texting every ‘brilliant thing’ we come across in our days. Even as simple as: ‘a brilliant thing – putting your hands round a warm mug and then putting your hands on your face’.

A note to conclude - Imogen

After our discussion, I really was struck by what it was that we felt connected each of these performances and their actors, which can only be described as a kind of palpable energy that filled both the theatre and the hearts of the audience with a deeply emotional response. As Nina put it, ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ reminds us all to look for the brilliant things in life, one of these being this play.

Words by Imogen Banfield (she/her), Annie Salisbury (she/her), Evie Yates (she/her) and Nina Mul (she/her)

Images by LUU Production Team