Rosemary branch theatre (studio)
Steve Whitely (director)
60m (length)
12 October 2026 (released)
16 h
Steve Whiteley's ADHD has taken him on an enviable number of once-in-a-lifetime adventures, although it's also made it difficult for him to enjoy them. In A Mind Full, the comedian takes us through a life spent chasing the next thing, from rubbing shoulders with future music stars to searching for inner peace in a Buddhist monastery. It's a funny and occasionally uncomfortable journey through a mind that refuses to sit still.
Whiteley's career has been as eclectic as his thoughts. During a stint working in A&R, he almost booked Marcus Mumford, although the opportunity disappeared somewhere into the depths of his overflowing inbox. It's one of several stories where ADHD is both the reason he's found himself in extraordinary situations and the thing that has stopped him making the most of them.
But an unpredictable life has its darker side. Whiteley talks about trying to quieten his mind through substances, women and an endless succession of life changes. He approaches these experiences with self-deprecation, at one point joking that his substance abuse has matured from Lynx to Dove. Mostly, his ability to find humour in difficult experiences is endearing, although occasionally the jokes veer into uncomfortable territory.
A standout story comes from his time in a Buddhist monastery, where, in decidedly unmonk-like fashion, he becomes competitive about being a Buddhist. A photograph from the trip captures the contradiction: Whiteley standing with his middle finger raised, wearing a shirt far too trendy for the doctrine he's embracing.
The show's production is lo-fi, something Whiteley attributes, at least in part, to both himself and his producer having ADHD. A slideshow of photographs and images guides us through the chapters of his life, occasionally accompanied by technical hiccups. Whiteley makes little effort to disguise these moments, inviting the audience into his feelings of confusion, overwhelm and disbelief at his own good fortune. It makes the experience personal, even when the delivery is rough around the edges.
A musical highlight comes in the form of a rap about being gluten-free, in which MC is rhymed, in ridiculous fashion, with WC, referring to the reduced time he's now spending on the toilet. Whether there's a deeper metaphor for his other dependencies is anyone's guess.
For the most part, the slideshow provides structure to an otherwise sprawling life story, although a few recurring themes feel unresolved. Two trips to A&E bookend his journey, while being stung twice by a bee is presented as a meaningful sign. Their significance is apparent to Whiteley, but less so to the audience, leaving a few narrative threads dangling.
Eventually, after years of looking for peace in the wrong places, Whiteley discovers breathwork. He invites the audience to try it, joking that the techniques are useful in high-pressure situations, whether you're in the military or performing stand-up comedy.
There's something affecting about watching someone who has spent so long searching for stillness finally find it. The show doesn't always bring its threads together, but Whiteley's openness and storytelling make it an enjoyable ride. With a little tightening, the next iteration (watch out for it at a fringe festival you) has potential.