John Ullyatt Soars in Life-Affirming Theatrical Experiment at the Citadel
Posted on February 7, 2020 By Colin MacLean Entertainment, entertainment, Front Slider, Theatre
Every Brilliant Thing is another effort by the Citadel to pry open our concept of what theatre is. Part of the “Highwire Series” of small experimental productions, it’s a one-person show featuring Edmonton actor John Ullyatt. It runs at the Citadel’s Rice Theatre through Feb. 23.
The show was originally a big hit at the Edinburgh Festival for British comedian Jonny Donahoe. He enlisted the help of playwright Duncan Macmillan to create a play which ran successfully in New York and then around the world. It even became an HBO special.
Taking place in the round with the lights up, this life-affirming experience demands the participation of an audience that is well aware of everyone else in the room. You may not be called upon to join in, but those who do will find the experience rewarding. The production also makes space for those who prefer to sit in anonymity.
This is a story of the existential hope that can come from concentrating on the small things that surround us – the minutia that makes life worth living. It’s based on the real-life story of a person who coped with depression and suicidal tendencies. Ullyatt skilfully plays the character at various ages, and acts as an affable and involved interlocutor who turns the theatre into a place for empowering personal revelation and exploration.
We meet an unnamed character who has a history of mental illness. The title refers to an early scene – the first in a series of events that will tug at your heart. The boy is only seven years old when his mother first attempts suicide. The poor kid is lost. Not knowing what to do, he comes up with the kind of logic that only a seven-year-old could conceive – a list of “brilliant things” his distraught Mom might hold onto in order to find some kind of affirmation in her life. The list includes ice cream, the colour yellow, water fights and “staying up past your bedtime.” As the boy matures he has to take on demons of his own. So the list grows – even extending to important adult relationships: “falling in love” and “watching someone you love watching your favourite movie.”
As the evening progresses, Ullyatt becomes less of a group leader and more a relaxed friend and collaborative participant. He morphs seamlessly from script to improvisation. There is no writer here to stand between audience and performer. The audience dictates the content. Every Brilliant Thing is not so much a one-person show as a shared experience between Ullyatt and some 200 of his closest personal friends. Says the host at one point, “If you live a full life and get to the end without ever once feeling depressed, you probably haven’t been paying attention.”
It is possible to turn some of life’s lowest moments into something positive.
The performer leads us gently through the evening sharing the experiences and even joining in. His exuberance overcomes him when a moment really works and he announces, “I’m going to High five everyone in the audience!” – and proceeds to do just that.
He brings out his guitar and serenades us. His subject copes with a sad mother and a lonely school life. He meets “Sam” in the library. They marry but he still can’t recognize his pain, and he marriage fails. The list grows, but the kid is never far from his mother’s disorder. Ullyatt moves us and his sympathetic subject to the realization that this character is broken and must seek external help – and with that understanding comes a natural progression toward wellness.
Director David Horak manages a lighthearted touch throughout, changing pace and mood with effective changes in lighting and music cues.
Macmillan’s droll and people-oriented script is a solid plus as are the split second improvisational comic synapses of John Ullyatt.
This humanistic and accessible intermission-less 80 minute experience will leave you changed. Warmed. Your spirits buoyed – and perhaps challenged to find joy in the small things that make up a life.
Photos by Nanc Price