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Chicago, Broadway veteran delivers virtuoso turn in Writers’ ‘Every Brilliant Thing’

EDITOR'S NOTE: This review discusses suicide. If you or someone you know needs help, the national suicide and crisis lifeline in the U.S. is available by calling or texting 988. There is also an online chat at 988lifeline.org.

“Every Brilliant Thing” — 4 stars

Ice cream.

That is the first of myriad reasons that make life worth living as articulated by a young girl and recalled by her older self in the poignant, provocative “Every Brilliant Thing,” a solo play by Duncan MacMillan in a masterful revival at Writers Theatre.

The narrator (Jessie Fisher making a virtuoso Writers debut) describes beginning her list of life’s wonderful things at age 7 in response to her mother’s suicide attempt. A catalog of simple pleasures, it included water fights, staying up past your bedtime and being allowed to watch TV, the color yellow and things with stripes, all of which the youngster hoped would dissuade her mom from taking her life.

Over the years, the list expands to include such delights as having dessert as a main course, coffee, falling in love, and palindromes in MacMillan’s touching, humorous play, which premiered in 2013 with writer/performer Jonny Donahoe (listed as co-author) as the narrator.

An examination of the impact of a parent’s depression on a child, the play chronicles in moving detail the narrator’s efforts to cope with grief and depression and her determination to find meaning as well as joy.

To that end, she shares life moments with audience members, some of whom occupy mismatched chairs “on stage” in set designer Izumi Inaba’s cozy, suburban backyard surrounded by a high, wooden fence and illuminated by string lights. Before the show, some audience members receive numbered slips of paper listing brilliant things, which they read in response to Fisher calling out the number.

Chicago and Broadway veteran Jessie Fisher stars in Writers Theatre's revival of the solo show “Every Brilliant Thing.” Courtesy of Michael Brosilow

Fisher also enlists theatergoers to take on minor roles as the narrator’s father, who finds his comfort in music but is unable to extend that comfort to his daughter; the veterinarian who euthanizes the narrative’s beloved dog Sherlock Bones; the school counselor, who removes a sock and uses it to help a traumatized child express herself; the fellow introvert turned life partner who the narrator meets in the college library and connects with over their shared love of books. (Number 1,000 in the list of reasons to live is someone lending you a book. So is knowing someone well enough to ask if you have broccoli in your teeth).

The Narrator (Jessie Fisher), standing, high-fives audience members in “Every Brilliant Thing,” running through Jan. 5 at Writers Theatre. Courtesy of Michael Brosilow

Soliciting audience participation is risky, more so during a play with a topic as charged as this. But Writers’ audience responded with quiet compassion, reverence and tears, prompting Fisher to offer a weepy theatergoer a tissue from a strategically placed box.

Director Kimberly Senior’s tender revival, which I expect will long resonate with those lucky enough to see it, is exquisitely tempered and wonderfully humane.

Subject matter notwithstanding, “Every Brilliant Thing” reminds us that, as Fisher’s narrator observes, things can get better. In that respect, Writers’ production serves as a balm for troubled times, sustained by Fisher’s truly exceptional performance.

I have described actors’ performances as heartfelt, but I cannot recall a performance this profound. Fisher is truly wondrous; reason enough to take a trip to Glencoe.

And after the play, stop for ice cream. Make it a double scoop.

• • •

Location: Writers Theatre, 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, (847) 242-6000, writerstheatre.org

Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Wednesday (except Dec. 25 and Jan. 1) and Thursday, (except Nov. 28); 7:30 p.m. Friday; 3 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; 2 and 6 p.m. Saturday (except Nov. 24 and Dec. 15) through Jan. 5. Also, 3 p.m. Dec. 11

Tickets: $70

Running time: About 70 minutes, no intermission

Parking: On the street

Rating: For adults; contains mature subject matter including frank discussions of suicide. Not for sensitive audience members