The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The NightTime

Alex Sharp with (from l.) Mercedes Herrero, Richard Hollis and Jocelyn Bioh.
Joan Marcus

Photos by

By Eugene Paul
The play has not begun and already you are uneasy; the stage is a huge black
box, even the raked floor is black, all walls and floor overlaid with a precise,
white grid. Lighted bench areas at the side walls. Black doorways slide open
soundlessly as some people in black enter, then sit motionless on those lighted
side bench like areas. Sudden blackness. When the lights come up, Wellington, a
large dead dog, a pitchfork plunged into him, lies center stage, a sorrowful boy
kneeling beside the dog, hand on his body. An agitated lady leads a policeman
into her back garden to the scene. Back garden? We are in a black and white
grid.
She accuses the boy, her neighbor, Christopher (Alex Sharp) of killing her dog.
The policeman questions Christopher, name, age, et cetera. Christopher answers
precisely; he is 15 years, three months, two days old. There being no other
suspects immediate, the policeman arrests Christopher but the second he puts
his hand on the boy, Christopher flies into a whirlwind of fists. He cannot bear to
be touched.

Alexander Sharp

Photo by Joan Marcus

And we begin to understand a little. Extremely intelligent, Christopher is

nevertheless, what we call autistic, in a world of his own. And a whole mess of
richly mad theatre artists bend their gifts to convey to us what that might mean,
from Mark Haddon, whose inspiring hit book inspired extraordinary Simon
Stephens play, this play, to intuitively inventive Bunny Christie, designer of the
electronic marvel we find out this setting contains, to Marianne Elliott, the
imaginative, empathic director she directed the astounding War Horse and a
whole team of lighting, video, sound, kinetic experts, Paule Constable, Finn Ross,
Adrian Sutton, Ian Dickinson, Scott Graham, Steven Hoggett whose striking
skills bombard us from now on constantly, without let up, as we are drawn into
the mind of Christopher as he sees and hears what he does, desperate to
uncover who murdered Wellington.

His father, Ed (Ian Basford) forbids him flatly from becoming involved. And
Christopher disobeys. They are alone. Christophers mother, Judy (Enid Graham)
is gone, dead, Ed tells Christopher, heart attack. We learn bit by bit from Siobhan
(Francesca Faridany), Christophers tutor, as she reads from the account
Christopher has written about his investigations concerning the death of
Wellington. And from the dizzying welter of compartments in the walls and the
floor, Christopher pulls out objects as he begins to construct a miniature of his
world, trees, houses, tracks, trains, people, animals whenever he is turned off,
thwarted by the people in the black and white world who do not understand him.
He will only touch the carefully extended palm of his father with his own
outstretched palm, briefly, a sign of trust. But it is his father, he discovers, who
has killed Wellington in a wild temper driven by his own problems. And
Christopher runs away. He has discovered the last address of his mother in
London. He is going to find out what happened to her.
The walls and floor become alive with sensations as Christopher travels by train
and by underground crowded by unfathomable sights and sounds, climbing the
walls, traversing the walls, the ever pulsing, ever changing walls,
incomprehensible, overloading his senses. He perseveres; he has a goal. He must
get there. Its a battering, grueling, dangerous journey.
And theres his mother. In consternation and surprise. No more than he.
Complications! How to resolve! Will they resolve?
More than forty characters swirl through Christophers story, played by fifteen
marvelous actors who at times become set pieces as well, cogs as well in mass
movement devices, action figures for director Elliott working the company
through Christophers mind. It is a stunning performance. And present
throughout, Alex Sharp, fresh out of school, as Christopher, making his

electrifyingno pun intendeddebut on Broadway.

Warning! You must not leave after the enthusiastic curtain calls! Theres a special
treat! Enjoy!
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Ethel Barrymore Theatre, 243 West 47th Street. Tickets: $27-$139. Plus
premium. 212-239-6200.
2 hrs,30 min.