Somewhere between the finding of my seat and the dimming of the lights, I realized that Every Brilliant Thing, which is just starting its limited 13-week run at the Hudson Theater, was not going to be your typical Broadway experience. For starters, I could see backstage, where several ladders and a tarp were propped haphazardly. But more to the point, while the audience was filtering in and unwrapping their hard candies, Daniel Radcliffe—yes the Daniel Radcliffe—was running around the theater, gesturing wildly to the stage manager, introducing himself to theater-goers and asking (politely!) if they’d be willing to be part of the show.
This messy exuberance, with a spillover between performance and participation, is what defines Every Brilliant Thing, an 85-minute one(ish)-man-show that tells the story of a hopeless optimist trying to find good in the wake his mother’s depression.
The brilliant things in question make up the running list the unnamed narrator keeps, all the stuff that makes life worth living. The list begins when he is seven with “ice cream” and moves on to more complex concepts as he ages—“windshield wipers that swish along to the beat of the music” or “waking up next to someone you love.” Initially, he makes this list to break his mother out of her periods of darkness. But ultimately, it becomes a thing he himself relies on, particularly as his own bouts of depression creep in.
