Like life itself, this curious play has its own obstacles to overcome

By LARRY ADAMS
A Seat on the Aisle

“Does that mean I can do anything?”

Twenty years ago, the late, eminent, pediatric neurologist Dr. Bradford Hale handed me a slim, red paperback in our office hallway and nearly wordlessly walked away. Though he had given me books before, this one was different. The cartoonish depiction of a dead dog on the cover, as well as the chapters marked by only prime numbers, drew me in, and after only a few pages I found I could not put it down.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time was then and remains now a relatively obscure but fiercely championed book. Translated into 36 different languages and the winner of multiple awards since its publication, it may well be the most highly acclaimed book you’ve never read. But it’s one of those landmark sorts of books – once you’ve read it, you’re never really quite the same. It presents the world, at least that of its setting in and around London, in a fresh and revealing way: through the prism of its lead character Christopher Boone’s neurodivergent disorder. But that disorder (often theorized by readers to be Asperger Syndrome, though it is never specifically identified) is ultimately not all that important to the themes of the work.

Author Mark Haddon once wrote, “The Curious Incident is not a book about Asperger’s … if anything it’s a novel about difference, about being an outsider” – and that is undoubtedly a good part of its appeal. We’ve all been there. We’ve all felt as if we don’t belong, lost in a world we don’t understand and that doesn’t understand us.

But it’s also more than that. It’s about limitations. It’s about family, about our shortcomings within the family dynamic, about the pain and guilt that inevitably ensues and that all of us, at one time or another, have suffered in our lives and our relationships.

Although Haddon himself claimed his book was “unadaptable,” his friend and playwright Simon Stephens took on the challenge and adapted it to the London stage anyway in 2012, where it quickly became a sensation, garnering five Tony Awards, including “Best Play.” From there it has spread across the globe, landing now at Carmel’s Studio Theater for Civic Theatre’s outstanding production of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time.

Let me say at the start that director Jay Hemphill has chosen a beast of a play for his debut at Civic. A seemingly endless succession of rapid-fire scene changes, a relatively small cast throwing on and off costumes and character roles with barely enough time to catch a breath, multimedia, choreography (yes, choreography!), and finally, finding a young actor with the chops to pull off a nearly uninterrupted, two-hour portrayal of a literally unfathomable character – these are just a few of the challenges posed by this production. It’s a show that doesn’t just allow for creativity, it demands it.

Fortunately, Hemphill, his cast, and his crew pull it all off to remarkably satisfying effect. Inspired lighting, scenery, and sound design choices work seamlessly with taut direction to keep the action moving in a play that could easily bog down under its own weight. A talented group of ensemble actors handle their brief but varied roles with aplomb, fleshing out the world of the show without distracting from the major points of the storyline.

The major supporting actors, save for a few instances of cringey, opening night overacting that I hope will be tamped down over the run of the production, all do a good job of giving the show the needed emotional depth that the protagonist Christopher inherently cannot provide. Shining particularly brightly is Eric Reiberg as Christopher’s father, Ed, a man who inspires love, hate, compassion, and fear almost simultaneously. Navigating what is in some ways the most complex and sympathetic character in the story, Reiberg adeptly portrays a rough but loving father attempting to do the right thing, but who is clearly in over his head.

The success of The Curious Incident, though, ultimately hangs squarely on the shoulders of the actor playing young Christopher Boone – a role challenging perhaps not so much in range as in sheer endurance. Lebanon High School senior Ozzy Heath tackles this assignment in full, with an amazing mastery of dialogue, demeanor, and body language. I expect great things of this young man on the boards in the future.

Although Civic offers up a nearly flawless production here, the show itself is not without its faults. The original novel is a marvel, the stage adaptation not as much. A “play within a play” conceit comes seemingly out of nowhere at the start of the second act and frankly never really works. And although the first act builds nicely to a shocking emotional wallop by intermission, the second act tends to drag, partly because the central mysteries of the story have already been solved, leaving the cleanup to carry the weight of the entire second act, and partly because, at its heart, The Curious Incident violates one of the prime rules of fiction. Fiction, it is correctly said, is about change; therefore, a protagonist who, by design, doesn’t and cannot change is simply and ultimately unable to sustain an extended length novel, or a two-act play.

The poor balance between scenes in Act 2 doesn’t help, and again I lay this at the feet of the playwright rather than the current production. A flashy but overly drawn-out depiction of Christopher’s journey to London, in which almost nothing of consequence to the plot occurs, consumes time that could have been better spent on character or theme development. The series of choppy and sometimes unrelated vignettes that follow do little to improve the situation. Characters and situations fly in and out so fast as to nearly defy any real coherence or meaning.

Finally, the playwright’s bafflingly celebratory “addendum” to the story seems, in my mind, to negate the otherwise incredibly poignant ending and, in fact, the entire premise of the show, and is in complete contradiction to the presentation of the same feature in the book. I may be the only person in the world who thinks this, though, so take it for what it’s worth. The audience thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Curious Incident is often cited as a celebration of difference, but I would praise it rather differently – as an insightful yet tragic realization of the isolation and limitations inherent in the human condition. “Does this mean I can do anything?” Christopher plaintively asks at one point. The answer, for Christopher – for all of us – is “no.” Not everyone can grow up to be President. Not everyone gets to be an astronaut. Not everyone gets a happy childhood or even a satisfying marriage.

In the end, The Curious Incident reminds us, we all take what small victories we can, bear the burdens we must – and just try to find a little meaning, love, and peace along the way.

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