Duncan Macmillan’s Every Brilliant Thing, brightly lit and performed in the round, takes the form of an intimate group discussion. Fine performer and comedian, Jonny Donahoe facilitates both the story and his crowd, warmly giving each audience member their part to play in the unravelling of the uncomplicated plot. With cards to read, props to lend and even the occasional character to simulate, there’s no escaping participation. Everyone has been there at one time or another; as the play states: “if you get to the end of your life without ever feeling crushingly depressed, then you probably haven’t been paying attention,” so it makes perfect sense to involve us, to encourage reaching out for help, to broaden the range of people you share how you are feeling with. The effect is one of trust, understading and shared responsibility.

This optimistic play about depression looks both at ways of helping to overcome the illness, and the complete helplessness we feel when a loved one spirals uncontrollably towards the end. It seems only natural that – at six years of age, when you discover that your mum has made her first suicide attempt – you start compiling a list of everything that is brilliant about the world; everything that is worth living for. As the character ages, the things he appreciates progress from ‘icecream’ to ‘watching someone watch your favourite film,’ and the list continues until he reaches a million. One million things to live for.

There are of course the inevitable issues with audience participation, audibility being the main one, but Donahoe is an impressive improviser who works delightfully well with anything that is thrown at him in the ring. The spontaneity of it all generates electricity and fuels the friendliness of the environment.

PS in short: Funny, sweet, sad and uplifting.
One million things to live for… Make that one million and one.