Every Brilliant Thing is a simple play that speaks about something huge; it doesn’t try to impress with elaborate sets or effects, and by doing this it manages to touch something real.
It deals with depression, suicide, and emotional pain, but it does so from an unexpected place — intimate, close, and deeply human.
Written by Duncan Macmillan and developed together with Jonny Donahoe, it originated in the United Kingdom as an intimate, almost handcrafted piece that, over time, became an international phenomenon.
The story follows a person who, as a child, begins to make a list of everything that makes life worth living, in an attempt to help his mother, who is struggling with severe depression.
That seemingly simple starting point becomes the driving force of a play that stays with the audience long after it ends.
In recent years, the play has continued to find new life on different stages and with different performers. One of the names recently associated with it is Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter). While he is not the only face of Every Brilliant Thing, his involvement has helped bring this kind of work to broader audiences.
Radcliffe has shown a clear interest in stories that explore vulnerability and direct connection with the audience, which aligns with the spirit of this play, where the actor does not hide behind a character but instead lays themselves bare.,
Mariska Hargitay, most associated with hit show SUV, has also been named as a high-profile future Every Brilliant Thing performer who, like Radcliffe, has long worked in emotionally vulnerable roles and campaigns.
The expansion of Every Brilliant Thing has been organic. It has been performed across Europe, America, Asia, and Oceania, adapting to different languages and cultures.
In the Spanish-speaking world, one of the most notable versions has been led by Erika de la Vega, who has brought the play to the United States and several Spanish-speaking countries. Her performance has been key in connecting with audiences who recognize universal elements in the story, while also seeing their own cultural nuances reflected.
What truly sets this play apart from other theatrical works is its relationship with the audience. There is no distance here, no fourth wall. From the very beginning, the actor invites the audience to take part in the story. Some audience members are given numbers from the list and read them aloud, while others step in to play secondary characters at key moments.
That participation is the heart of the play. Each performance is different because it depends on the people in the room. This creates a sense of community that is rare in contemporary theater. The audience stops being passive observers and becomes complicit.
Although the play moves through delicate territory, it does so with a disarming honesty. Depression is present from the start as a concrete reality affecting a family.
Love, relationships, loss, and the difficulty of communicating when emotions become overwhelming also come into focus.
Each performance is different because it depends on the people in the room. This creates a sense of community that is rare in contemporary theater
And yet, it does not settle into darkness. There is humor, there is irony, and there are moments of lightness that do not diminish the subject.
What this means is that the play becomes a way of showing the complexity of life as it really is.
The list of “brilliant things” runs through the entire story. It begins with simple, almost childlike items, like ice cream or watching your favorite TV show, and grows as the protagonist matures. The list becomes a refuge, a way of organizing the world when everything feels like it is falling apart.
What is interesting is that the list does not belong only to the character. It ultimately belongs to the audience as well.
Everyone in the room can recognize themselves in those small moments that, on their own, may seem insignificant, but together hold life up.
The play suggests that you do not always need big reasons to keep going, sometimes, it is enough to remember that those small things exist.
In the end, what Every Brilliant Thing leaves behind is the idea that life, with all its difficulties, is also made up of small moments that go unnoticed if you are not paying attention. The play invites you to pause, to look, and to recognize that even in the hardest moments, there is something worth adding to that endless list. Because, at its core, living is also about collecting reasons — no matter how small — to stay a little longer.
The lingering question is: what would be on your list of brilliant things?