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Curiosity and a dead dog

2013; Elsevier BV; Volume: 12; Issue: 9 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1016/s1474-4422(13)70154-6

1474-4465

Dara Mohammadi,

Contemporary Literature and Criticism

It was with much relish that I made my way to see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, a stage-adaptation of Mark Haddon's best-selling mystery novel of the same name. What better than a play based on a book that I, like so many others, thoroughly enjoyed, combined with a crash-course in solving mysteries. For those unfamiliar with the plot, the protagonist, and my mystery-solving mentor for the evening, was Christopher John Francis Boone, a 15-year-old boy with an autism-like disorder who finds his neighbour's dog dead in the garden, speared, rather gruesomely, with a garden fork. Armed with only his trust in logic, Christopher sets out to piece together the evidence and bring the perpetrator to justice. So off I marched to the Apollo Theatre in London, pen and pad in hand—part theatre critic, part apprentice sleuth. When I eventually took my seat among the West End's boisterous theatre crowd, I was surprised at what I saw. A futuristic set design. Covered from floor to ceiling in a neon grid, it could quite easily have been designed for Steven Lisberger's 1982 science fiction film TRON—an odd setting, I thought, for a story that takes place largely in Swindon, a run-of-the-mill suburban town in the south of England. My hesitation lasted only moments before the show exploded into life. A barrage of lights and shifting silhouettes subsided to reveal Christopher, under a spotlight and crouched over the dead dog at the scene of the crime. From that moment on, I was blown away. And the set design was central to my awe. Throughout Christopher's journey, the stage shifted form and function to give a quite breath-taking interpretation of the life of somebody with an autism-like disorder. At times it was his cage, demarcating the harsh boundaries of the world around him; blinding lights and screechy electronic sounds crashed down on him when his ordeal got too much. At other times the stage burst open into the entire universe, in wonderful dream-like sequences, as Christopher sought refuge in his reassuring, quantifiable world of astronomy and numbers within. I'd be hard-pressed to choose my favourite scene. Christopher's journey from Swindon to London, though, was quite impressive, and did seem to occupy the chattering crowd after the show. On his arrival to London, a backpacked and pet-rat-carrying Christopher finds himself at the heart of London's commuter jungle—Paddington Station at rush hour. Blinkered and impressively resilient, Christopher—much like a sweaty, nervous pinball—successfully bumps and dodges his way through the army of briefcase-wielding office drones to make his way onto the Underground. (Readers, I can say no more about what happens next, but rest assured that it'll blow your socks off). There is more to the play than just theatrical razzmatazz, though. The play adds realness and grit to the lives of those around Christopher, in a way that the book's charming first-person narrative could not. The respective struggles of Christopher's two parents, their nerves shot to bits, were superbly told. As was the incredulity of the people who encountered Christopher and his odd lines of inquiry. Is there a downside to the play? Well, I learnt very little about how to solve a mystery. In fact, as I watched Christopher's life unravel around him, the advice barked at him by his father throughout the play became more and more irrefutable: some things are better left alone. Luckily, playwright Simon Stevens heeded no such advice when considering adapting this best-selling novel for stage. He's taken a brilliant book and turned it into an equally brilliant—whisper it, but perhaps even slightly better—play. The Curious Incident has already picked up seven Olivier Awards, and as it continues its march towards becoming a West-End staple, as it undoubtedly will, its work to raise awareness about autism will be interesting to monitor. But it should not be defining. (After all, at no point in the book or the play is Christopher described as having autism, he describes himself only as “a mathematician with some behavioural difficulties”.) Although far from being incidental to the plot, Christopher's perspective on life is the framework upon which a wonderful story is built. The Curious Incident is what it is—an excellent, imaginative play, and a refreshing, funny, and sometimes tormenting take on life. I implore you to go and see it. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Simon Stephens, is playing at the Apollo Theatre London from March 12, 2013 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Simon Stephens, is playing at the Apollo Theatre London from March 12, 2013