The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Birmingham Hippodrome - review and pictures
Simon Stephen’s Curious Incident is poignant, pithy, brave and brilliant. It’s an inspiring journey into the mind of one special young man via a mesmerising cast and stunning stage effects.
The show, based on Mark Haddon’s best-selling novel is an eye-opener, a study into the human condition and a joy - with actions so fluid, it almost becomes a ballet. What it is not is a comedy.
Yes, our hero Christopher, who has some form of Asperger Syndrome reaches some amusing conclusions about the world behind him, but the constant roars of hilarity from parts of the audience they provoked rather detracted from the wonder of the performance.
His interpretation of other people is both wry and thought-provoking but not a laugh-a-minute romp.
The five-year-old National Theatre production tells the story of Christopher who awakes one morning to find the neighbour’s dog dead - killed by a garden fork driven through its body.
This plucky teenager, who attends a special school because of his condition is determined to find the murderer. He has never left his road on his own before but, in his quest, makes his way alone from Swindon to London via train and underground, never having bought a ticket, found a platform or dealt with crowds before.
The station scenes are amazing. The wonderful encompassing gridded-backdrop of lights and images, brings home the panic, chaos, confusion and sheer enormity of what Christopher is attempting.
Played by the captivating Scott Reid, Christopher tries to mask the noise around him with his own whimpering, hides his head in his hands and squeezes himself into a small ball on the ground. His fear is palpable. The role of his gentle but solid teacher is taken by the honey-toned Lucianne McEvoy, and is in contrast to the gruffer portrayals of his parents played by David Michaels and Emma Beattie.
Comedy queen for me was headteacher Mrs Alexander, played by Debra Michaels, who caught the ' jobsworth' approach to a tee. I didn't mind a gentle giggle at her or the father's frustrations - but that was it.
I preferred to reflect on Christopher's 'condition' and how well it was illustrated. The train journey for him wasn't an opportunity to worry about the boiler or an unlocked door, but a chance to count cows, admire buildings and live life - if a very different one - in the moment.
