Review by Jen
On a freezing Edinburgh night in late November, I attended Theatre Paradok’s production of Every Brilliant Thing by Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe at a small basement theatre beneath Home Bar in Tollcross. It’s the kind of critically acclaimed play that sits on your ‘to-watch’ list until you get a chance to go, and I am so glad I did. First performed at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2014, Every Brilliant Thing, about a child who creates a list of reasons to live following his mother’s attempted suicide, has become a sort of theatrical palimpsest, performed in over 80 different countries and tailored to its varied social contexts. Donahoe, one of the play’s co-creators, invites companies to adapt and explore the play, claiming ‘it’s important that people do their own versions. It’s not a museum piece’. Theatre Paradok’s version, brought to life by director Hannah Davis and performer Daisy Casemore, is exquisite.
From the moment you step through the door, the production team invite you warmly into the world of the play, handing out slips of paper which contain ‘brilliant things’, numbered and intended to be read out throughout the performance. As the audience enter, the solo performer greets and speaks with audience members, immediately grounding the play in real life and establishing an inviting space in which the audience become co-creators of the story. Director Hannah Davis makes emotionally intelligent and comedically sharp decisions throughout the performance, blurring boundaries between audience and performer, fiction and reality, and tragedy and humour. The result is a play which prefers raw emotion over polished performance, and genuine human interaction over scripted patter.
 |
| Hannah Davis and Ellie Casemore. Photo by Emily Carrell |
Actor Daisy Casemore is a powerhouse. She is a naive seven-year-old one moment and nostalgic adult the next, a mixture of stand-up comedian and rueful teenager rolled into one. With sensitive humour, she guides the audience between moments of levity and solemnity, tackling the most difficult of topics with empathetic wit and endearingly awkward tenderness. Initiating moments of audience participation with ease, Ellie Casemore holds the audience in the palm of her hand (a particular highlight is when she insists on high-fiving the entire audience, or when she draws us into impromptu karaoke numbers).
Within the first two minutes of the performance, Casemore invites an audience member onstage to euthanise an imaginary dog, and within the first five minutes leads a tender interaction with another audience member, through which we learn that her character’s mother has attempted her own life. These impromptu scenes give her the space to showcase her witty repartee and improvisation skills, and as she reacts with genuine enthusiasm when audience members read out items on her list of ‘brilliant things’, she creates an atmosphere fizzing with energy and excitement. Yet beneath the character’s tendency towards humour, Ellie Casemore allows us to see them for who they really are: a child desperate to save their mother’s life however they believe possible. Maintaining eye contact throughout the story, we had no choice but to hang onto Casemore’s every word. It is through this profound sensitivity that she creates not only a captivating performance, but also a sense of community. To be able to connect a group of strangers in real time as a solo performer is no small feat, and Casemore deserves the highest of praise for guiding the audience with such quiet skilfulness.
A simple yet effective lighting design from Cat Chapman assists the play’s intimacy – I counted only eight lights in total, which illuminate the performer and audience for the duration of the play, only becoming brighter in the story’s final moments, bringing us into the here and now as the play’s final message of hope rings out. Sarah Ku’s simplistic sound design, consisting only of music which Casemore’s character introduces, interacts with and invites the audience to experience with her, grounds the performance and connects us even further. Coupled with the cosy setting of a repurposed basement dance floor where audience members sit in the round, the performance becomes a small but mighty proclamation of hope in the face of tragedy.
This play is an incredibly nuanced portrayal of depression, suicide and trauma. It is not dogmatic or sensationalist, as many presentations of suicide tend to be. Every Brilliant Thing is both tragic and hopeful at once, simultaneously angry and celebratory; at its core, the play is a deeply powerful and boundlessly profound exploration of the resilient human spirit and our ability to see the good in things. Theatre Paradok’s production is truly an antidote to pessimism, the kind of play you bring with you to your darkest moments in the hope it will provide a little light. I certainly will be.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
You can find out more about the work that Theatre Paradok do by visiting their website https://theatreparadok.com/
Post a Comment