It’s not every day that Harry Potter calls you old. To be clearer, it was Daniel Radcliffe, now a bearded young dad in his mid-30s, who approached my partner and me minutes before the start of Every Brilliant Thing — his powerhouse new one-man show at the Hudson Theatre — and asked us if we’d mind playing a “nice old couple” in the play, handing him a juice box and Mars candy bar a few minutes into the show. The boyishly handsome star could not have been nicer, needlessly introducing himself (“Hi, my name’s Dan”) before recruiting us. It was an act we watched him do dozens of times before the house lights dimmed. The couple behind us was moved to one of the dozens of seats placed on three sides of the stage, with one of them cast as the love interest for Radcliffe’s unnamed character. That couple was replaced by someone who became a college professor delivering a lecture from the stage.
Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe’s Every Brilliant Thing, which was first staged a decade ago, relies on audience participation and improvisation in a way that’s rare — and tricky for a performer to pull off, even one who’s got a Tony Award on his mantel and has endured a freakish level of fame since he was 12. This is no mere comedic stunt. The show addresses serious issues like suicide, but with a touch so deft and feather-light that we’re never allowed to sink into dark spaces for very long.
Radcliffe plays an unnamed narrator whose childhood is defined by his mother’s battle with depression, including several suicide attempts that result in her hospitalization and that eventually claim her life. At age 7, he decides to embark on a subtle lobbying effort, creating a list of every brilliant thing in the world that makes life worth living. No. 1: ice cream. No. 2: water fights. No. 3: staying up past your bedtime and being allowed to watch TV. Each of these list items is handed out to a member of the audience, sometimes in the mezzanine or balcony and sometimes to someone seated on stage (like No. 4, “things with stripes,” read at my performance by a millennial wearing a striped sweater).
Throughout the show, Radcliffe calls out numbers from the list and looks to the section of the theater where he’s handed that card, playing the audience like an orchestra conductor — or more accurately, like a nimble-footed drum major. He displays a similar light touch as he ropes select theatergoers into more extended bits — his grade-school librarian/counselor, who’s encouraged to create a sock puppet from one she’s wearing on her foot; his father, with whom he has a long exchange full of a child’s many “Why?” questions; and his romantic partner, who shares a love of reading that’s demonstrated by particular books that they borrow from the audience (the star politely declined a J.K. Rowling tome).
There’s a wonderful serendipity here as Radcliffe and the audience lean into the “yes, and…” ethos of improvisation. Radcliffe welcomed the unexpected (our “school counselor” gave her sock puppet a tongue-twister of a name, Fido Frilly Fluffy-man, which the star remembered for a callback later on) and remained encouraging when things didn”t unfold with scripted precision. Shout-out to associate directors Laura Dupper and David Hull (yes, the former Crazy Ex-Girlfriend star) and their team, who do heroic work with the complicated logistics of props, sound and lighting cues, etc.
As directed by Jeremy Herrin and Macmillan, Radcliffe appears both relaxed and fully in control even as the tone shifts with his character’s mounting melancholy and withdrawal from his partner, his family and the brilliant things that once offered him solace if not always joy. Will the depression that ultimately claimed his mother’s life consume him as well? The actor smartly doesn’t overplay the character’s depressive qualities, but there’s a new hollowness that seeps through his default chipperness.
He’s also never really alone with his thoughts. By this time, he’s not merely implicated the audience in his journey but recruited us to be his companions, his aides-mémoire to that every-growing list, and his cheering section. How can we not root for Radcliffe as he delivers a tour de force, serotonin-boosting performance that’s as powerful as any drug currently on the market? Every Brilliant Thing is the funniest, most life-affirming show about suicide. It provided so much uplift that I didn’t even mind being called “old.” ★★★★★
If you are feeling overwhelmed by life and are contemplating suicide, or know someone who is, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 988. It is a free, 24/7 confidential service that can provide support, information and local resources.
EVERY BRILLIANT THING
Hudson Theatre, Broadway
Running time: 85 minutes (with no intermission)
Tickets on sale through May 24 for $63 to $481
Culture Sauce 