Written and Performed by Adam Lenson

Directed by Hannah Moss

The branching paths of “what if” can become an all-encompassing pitfall. 

The idea that with every big decision comes an alternate reality in which we said the other option, one where we took the promotion or said yes to that potential partner isn’t new, but Adam Lenson manages to craft it into a multi-faceted experience with deft skill and an accessibility. Fifteen years ago, Lenson chose one of these paths, the one all parents fear: he stopped training to be a doctor to direct theatre.

In 2019, Lenson was diagnosed with cancer. And thoughts of choices made along the way aren’t far off from his mind.

A fusion of gig theatre, personal memoirs, and spoken lectures, Anything That You Wanted To Be is an ideal fit for the Summerhall Cairns Lecture Theatre, but don’t fret: this isn’t a seminar or a talk. What’s presented is a tightly constructed, emotionally vulnerable and frank hour of theatre and thought. It covers the present, the past, and the alternate avenues Lenson could have gone down throughout their life. A mixture of audio design and live performance all work together to charter the toying with time as we playfully head into ‘minus’ days before the cancer diagnosis and the plus days following it.

Intended with the greatest of respect: Lenson isn’t a performer. They’re a director. And honestly? That’s to the show’s benefit and what makes it such an honest and well-paced piece of theatre. Nothing is taken for granted, and no one could possibly perform this story with the insight and strength that Lenson could. And director Hannah Moss turns this (seemingly) weakness into the production’s core strength, ensuring Anything That We Wanted To Be is performed with precision, sincerity, and tightness to ensure Lenson’s performance speaks to the audience, even as we stray into the medical jargon and heavier moments.

And despite the use of various technologies to input a more visual element to the production, life still teems from it all – despite the static and ‘coldness’ of the television screens. It’s not overused, Christian Czornyji’s sound design does do wonders to detach from reality at varying moments, though can prove to be a touch tricky in flowing with the plot at times. And when the space is draped in such a transformative and engaging design from Libby Todd, complete with neon tubing, a messy reflection of Lenson’s mindscape, that the very fact you’re focus is on Lenson’s words (unless we’re meant to be looking at the screen), tells you everything about the quality of the writing.

Regret is a monster of a thing. And an even more difficult beast to come to terms with, and sometimes, it just takes that catastrophic moment to snap us into life. This life-affirming show pushes audiences not to wait until that diagnosis, to accept the choices made, and not focus on the ones they didn’t.