**** Brendan Hunt’s “The Movement You Need” opened a three-week engagement at Steppenwolf Theatre to a rousing, responsive, adoring audience. This solo spectacle was written and performed by a truly gifted storyteller. Brendan Hunt returns to his hometown and generously shares his reflections of a rough, bittersweet childhood, the solace of songs, and his uneven pursuit of growing up. In the process, there are uproarious laughs, excellent improvisation, and audience engagement that will have you appreciate deeply this actor, writer and consummate entertainer.

 

Ultimately, “The Movement You Need” is a story about being a human being. The circumstances have to do with a fascinating framework of family, music, and “the crazy shit life throws our way.” But this journey Hunt takes us on is a recognizable human journey – i.e., the search for connection. And we begin to understand that the longing Hunt vividly portrays is universal.

 

In the course of this 80-minute show, smoothly directed by Ashley Rodbro, Hunt brings up a few issues,  but at the core of this work, we have a man who was raised by a single mom, Martha, who dies an early, unfortunate death. A mostly absent, inconsequential father who suffered the fallout of Viet Nam and PTSD. A little boy left at home with a teething baby, as his mom is sinking deeper into alcoholism while she tends bar up on Devon Street. Then there are the torturous teenage years leading nowhere. We must assume, there is baggage and deep damage done to little “Na Na”, a childhood name that stuck.

 

We are in the presence of a strong voice – witty, unassuming, wise. Hunt is nonetheless elusive. There is an intimation of deep waters running under the placid, comedic surface presented. One of the ordinary sorrows in life, for example, is to watch a parent, in whose arms we were once so small, grow smaller in ours. He masks the psychic pain with a sequence of hilarious thoughts. Hunt mostly avoids the confusion and torment and stays within his dramatic comfort zone.

 

Brendan’s mother loved the Beatles. As a little boy, Brendan was first exposed to the Beatles one night, when he could not sleep. He found his mother smoking and watching “Yellow Submarine” on television. After being shooed away, he nevertheless joins her on the couch. Little Na Na was mesmerized. For the rest of his mother’s life, he was always trying to get back on that couch with his mom and the Beatles. The band, thus, became a starting point for a connection between the two. Her fate, though, did not allow for that bond and mutual love to be fully realized. If ever there is a hard pull on the heartstrings, here it is.

 

Hunt tells us about an unexpected invitation while he is working in London and a very awkward introduction to Paul McCartney, who is rehearsing at Wembley Stadium. Hunt is very self-conscious not to fawn over McCartney like every other starstruck fan. For Hunt, this is a momentous moment. McCartney is the glue that kept him and his mother together. This is the person that saved him during adolescence through his music. He thinks gushing would not resonate with McCartney, as he has heard it all from fans before. In a brilliant impersonation of Sir Paul, Hunt recalls Paul graciously telling a fan who interrupts him in a public place that you can be a friend or a fan, but not both. Hunt realizes he does not want to be just another fan, and remains silent in Paul’s presence. Struggling to hold back his fears, he (metaphorically) crumbles into a ball on the floor and babbles incoherently. “The Movement You Need” is Hunt’s vehicle to recount everything he wanted to say to McCartney but did not.

 

It’s only in part a poignant portrait of a little boy and his mom. And through the fog of cigarette smoke, alcohol, financial pressures and raising children in Chicago, there is a maternal bond, perhaps love, between the two. Humor is the path through pain. Hunt seems scared to unzip and expose the emotional stuff and to show the audience his true angst. That is until the scene when he describes the moments leading up to getting “the call” about his mother. A truly beautiful, touching, sad, climatic moment, I did not feel that impact fully as a result. Hunt acted the loss convincingly and emotionally, but up until this point, his torments and damage have been swept away. It was too little too late after being pulled out of earlier emotional fallouts with Hunt’s shield of comedy.

 

The true joy of seeing this production is having such a rare and skilled actor who understands the story telling process. He can convey tenderness, pride, conviction or longing brilliantly and with conviction. This is absolutely a fascinating production and is slightly sordid at moments. Hunt takes stock and inventory of everything that’s happened as he takes us back in time with the use of projected family photos and videos. But you cannot go back, yet Hunt for better or worse looks back through the wreckage with awe and at moments fondness. This production features perfect scenic design by Meredith Ries, lighting design by Nick Solyom, sound design by Kate Marvin and projection design by Stefania Bulbarella.

 

Brendan Hunt seizes the irony of life, he sees the contradictions in people, and has this ability to put it into context that’s understandable, quite moving and hilarious. He skewers self-regard, hypocrisy and snobbery through comic observation to alleviate the sting of vexing and dark situations. At a time when there is such serious discord in the world, Hunt celebrates the human spirit and laughs at life. Borrowing from “Hey Jude”, he takes a sad song and makes it better.

The Movement You Need: An Evening with Brendan Hunt

Written and Performed by Brendan Hunt

Emmy and SAG Award-winning co-creator and star of Ted Lasso

 

Through May 10, 2026

 

Steppenwolf Theatre Company

1650 N. Halsted Street

Chicago

 

Tickets: Priced $55-$105 (pricing includes a $10 handling fee)

Steppenwolf.org/movement or (312) 335-1650

Student rush tickets are $15 and are available the day of performance through the box office one hour before showtime.

Performance schedule:

Tuesdays          7:30pm 

Wednesdays    7:30pm