“Every Brilliant Thing,” places unusual demands on its lead character, Narrator. Jessie Fisher delivers a carefully calibrated performance from a comedic script that is deceivingly simple, but deeply emotional and upon reading it afterward, I saw that it is beautifully structured, as well.
Fisher is the center of our attention in this 70 minute monologue that evokes the gamut of emotions—at times poignant and tearful, at others boisterously funny. She relates a a sampling of thoughts of people, places and things that generate life’s happy and satisfying moments, Narrator's lifelong quest, begun in childhood, to stave off her mother’s suicidal tendencies by coaxing her to dwell on the brighter side of things.
In this demanding role, Fisher must be onstage 30 minutes before the “curtain” rises formally, welcoming audience members with numbered slips of paper, each bearing a thought evoking joy: 1. Ice Cream. 2. Water fights. 3. Staying up past your bedtime and being allowed to watch TV. In the course of the performance, we are each called upon to read aloud the item we received. (My companion has 1064
Fisher also eyes the incoming ticket holders as potential stagemates, who will be called from the audience to play an array of characters from her life: a school counselor, a lecturer, a veterinarian, her father, her spouse, even herself, at one point. As the formal show begins, Fisher narrates the story of her life, and calls on these individuals and others, and all of us eventually, to voice items from the list, or to play the bigger roles. She becomes both actor, and director, and we are transformed from spectators to players, the fourth wall continuously dissolved in this unusual play.
So reliant on the audience is “Every Brilliant Thing,” that each performance varies significantly—yet reading the script afterward, things that I imagined must have been spontaneous or ad libbed, are in fact detailed by playwrights Duncan Macmill and and Jonny Donahoe. And director Kimberly Senior has guided Fisher to a remarkable performance that is deceivingly natural and immensely convincing. I had a chance to see “Every Brilliant Thing” a couple years ago at WIndy City Playhouse, and this production, in Writers Theatre's more intimate Gillian space is every bit as good as that one.
We see Narrator through stages of her life, in college, getting engaged, married, divorced—all the while growing and maintaining this list of “brilliant things” that make life worth living. In her earlier life, she shared it with her mother, but it made little impact on her. The audience members are cued to read their assigned thoughts by number. As she courses through life, Narrator’s list grows into the tens of thousands, and hundreds of thousands, deepening in complexity, and the pace increases. We see that ultimately, this list is for the Narrator, a lifeline to a happier life to which she clings.
“Every Brilliant Thing” runs through January 5, 2025 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL, and comes highly recommended.