“Believe in yourself, Hannah.” This is the show’s mantra and over fifty energetic minutes Hannah Rose Curtis exemplifies exactly what an autobiographical play should be, giving us unhinged access into her world. The examination of invisible disabilities in theatre is usually led by personal experience. This might sound obvious, but the performer’s challenge is striking a careful balance of what to share. Too much information and we’re in the territory of hubris. Too little and modesty guards exposure. In the case of Brain, or should we say Brian, the difficulties of living and achieving with dyslexia are revealed in layers of undeniable quality, fragility and vulnerability.
Curtis lays out her insecurities on a highly effective and simply designed set, taking us through a potted history of a life brick walled by an education that constantly confined her younger years to the dumb room. Her presence launches in the mould of a hyper active Children’s TV presenter but this guise works perfectly. Breakneck pace can be slowed in the hands of experience and with straightforward explanation the room is controlled and the dynamic changed in a beat. This is the power of positive engagement from a self-confessed people pleaser. This is also her reality, and the audience are quickly sold.
We meet the characters that shaped her journey. From Mrs Hart, the key swinging Yorkshire teacher who identifies her condition to Cornish Richard, the pasty loving music teacher influencing her progress in musical theatre the scenarios are delivered with comedic control and acute observations of life’s difficulties. The mimicry is excellent; these are different characters and personifications, not just different voices.
This play addresses multiple issues surrounding stigma. It is also a fantastic overview of how the necessary development of coping mechanisms shapes your acceptance of life. The anecdotes are raw and brutally funny. Melting kettles on hobs and putting frying pans in microwaves whilst bringing childhood bear companions Porridge and Syrup into context reveal touching insights into the thought process of a naturally gifted comedic actor who commands her audience at will.
Pace defines Brain and this is carefully measured. The sound design and use of music is highly effective too with the use of the ticking clock to control scenes subtle and atmosphere defining. Technically, the show’s only minor issue was lighting, with Curtis moving into patches of darkness on the edges of the corner stage when a little extra would have kept all things visible. It’s noted because I sense performer perfectionism is strived for here and this element can be rectified in moments.
The show builds to a very clever and poignant conclusion. For a review, this is best left unrevealed however, as a dramatic device this action pulls focus on the entire story and demonstrates the ultimate lesson in effort and perseverance. For the audience it’s incredibly satisfying and the actor, catharsis in its purest form.
Reviewer: Al Carretta
Reviewed: 24th August 2026
North West End UK / Theatre Muse UK Rating: