‘Curious Incident’ dazzles with heart, stagecraft
“I find people confusing.” Join the club, kid, right? Except this isn’t typical teenage angst or temporary existential melodrama. That confusion is a constant state of being for Christopher Boone (played by Adam Langdon), a fiercely intelligent 15-year-old who occupies his own wavelength on the autism spectrum.
The brilliance of Simon Stephens’ play (based on the 2003 mystery novel by Mark Haddon and winner of the 2015 Tony Award for best play) is that it doesn’t just present Christopher to the audience, but – through inventive stagecraft – invites us to experience his singular mind.
It starts with a dead dog, lying center stage, with a garden fork sticking out of his torso. Wellington, the neighbor’s dog, whom Christopher loved. He’s distraught and wants the responsible party punished, but with no witnesses and no leads, the police pretty much shrug their shoulders. In their stead, Christopher begins to play detective, keeping a book of clues (it’s that book that drives the narrative, creating a mischievous playwithin-a-play structure that’s toyed with for laughs).
His overwhelmed single dad (played by Gene Gillette) – Christopher’s mom, we learn, died a while back of a heart attack – begs Christopher to let Wellington’s death go, to stop harassing neighbors and to just get back into the rhythm of their already-difficult lives.
But Christopher’s mind is a steel trap, and if the police won’t solve the mystery of Wellington’s murder, Christopher bloody well will. That determination sets off an unexpected adventure, both physical and emotional, that takes Christopher well beyond the safe confines of his quiet neighborhood, and into the noisy heart of London and the twisted depths of a family secret.
Langdon is fantastic as Christopher, an exposed nerve that shoots sparks whenever he’s overwhelmed, or when someone yells at or tries to touch him. But he’s also a charismatic delight, projecting humor and wonder as he tries to parse metaphors, goes on rambling tangents about why he’d make a very good astronaut and recalls exactly how many pellets of rat food are in his pocket for his pet rodent, Toby, who, he’ll have you know, is very clean and doesn’t have bubonic plague. (The part of Christopher is played by Benjamin Wheelwright at the Thursday, Saturday matinee and Sunday evening performances.)
Langdon shines as brightly as he does with the help of his uncredited co-star: the staging. The set is a feat of electrominimalism: a grid box of light, sort of like a giant Lite Brite, on which Christopher can paint and project the inner workings of his mind. The backdrop spirals with numbers, stars, symbols, math equations – whatever is obsessing or overwhelming Christopher. Flashing strobe lights and disruptive audio convey how overwhelming the world is for Christopher, as if he has more sensoryinput points than the rest of us.
It’s an immersive theatrical experience, one that’s no less heartfelt and moving for all its technical wizardry. He may not be able to give hugs or grasp metaphors, but Christopher sees connections and grandiosities where others do not. And at least for the running time of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,” we’re able to see them too.