Christopher Boone is 15 and lives in England with his dad. His mother died suddenly of heart problems, so it’s just the two of them. He has a pet rat named Toby, a computer, a Swiss Army Knife. His favorite color is red. Christopher is a math prodigy and falls along the autism scale. One morning he finds Wellington, a big, shaggy dog he’s fond of, dead. In the garden by his home. The poor creature has a pitchfork in his back. The owner (a neighbor woman) immediately assumes Christopher is the culprit, and calls the police. The cop doesn’t understand he can’t be touched, and misinterprets his reaction as hostility. His dad must collect him from the station. Later, when Christopher resolves to find the culprit responsible for Wellington’s murder, his dad tells him flat out, he’s to leave it alone.
Adapted for the stage by Simon Stephens (from the novel by Mark Haddon) The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, tells us Christopher’s story, from his worldview. It’s constructed from numerous, insightful devices. Characters read aloud from Christopher’s journal. They participate in particular passages. They interact with Christopher in ways that reveal something about him, and them too. Solemn episodes are given their due moment. Christopher doesn’t necessarily respond to kindness, but not because he’s hostile. The focus he needs to function, doesn’t go beyond life on its face.
Colloquialisms and metaphors confuse Christopher. When we learn he cannot lie, it’s not because he’s noble. It’s a simple fact. A powerful aspect of Curious Incident is the consideration of truth. How the decision to divulge the hidden, has consequences. No one’s saying that sticking to the truth isn’t crucial. But it often asks for a painful shift in comprehension. After Christopher has an excruciating epiphany, he goes to pieces. In this regard he’s just like the rest of us. We all have moments that drench us in misery: overwhelming and merciless.
One of Curious Incident’s undeniable strengths is the refusal to treat Christopher as if he’s precious, or quaint. When his dad discovers he’s nicked his credit card, he says, “You little shit…” as any dad might. Christopher might be unorthodox, he might not notice the obvious, but he doesn’t miss much. He’s not treated as an outlier. Despite the difficulties that come with his situation, Christopher is never treated with pity.
Director Emily Scott Banks skillfully manages this poetically sentient drama with nuance and canniness. It’s deceptively straightforward. The cast is dedicated, poised and present. Their raw emotions emerge without shame or exaggeration. Somehow along the way, Curious Incident reveals the phenomenal sensations waiting for us. It drops us into life with all its crumminess and radiance. Disappointment and pleasure. Then yields to the occasions when the frantic gives way to unexpected grace.
WaterTower Theatre (Addison Theatre Centre) presents: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Playing July 14th-25th, 2021. Live and In-Person. 15650 Addison Rd, Addison TX, 75001. 972.450.6230. Boxoffice@watertowertheatre.org