'The Curious Incident' and 'The Valley of Astonishment'

In The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Elliott’s exhilarating production, which opened just this week on Broadway, we see the world through the eyes of Christopher, a 15-year-old boy with Asperger’s, a syndrome on the autism spectrum. And what an astonishing world it is — strange, wondrous, and perilous.

I saw this production in London two years ago, and seeing it again in New York only made me more in awe of its accomplishments. Elliott takes a simple linear story from a book by Mark Haddon (adapted for the stage by Simon Stephens) and transforms it into a journey of discovery like none you’ve ever taken.

It starts with a dead dog

The story is, in essence, a mystery. Christopher has discovered a dead dog named Wellington in his neighbor’s yard in the remote London suburb of Swindon. He is determined to find the killer.

But Christopher has a few obstacles in his path. As a sheltered student in a special education program, he doesn’t have complete independence to function in the world. Nor can he relate normally to others — he has a phobia of being touched and has trouble understanding people (phrases like “you’ve got your nose out of joint” or “we don’t see eye to eye” confound him because he takes them literally). Moreover, his family life is not a happy one. His mother has abandoned the home, and his father has trouble coping with Christopher’s disability.

On the other hand, Christopher (as played by the amazing Alex Sharp, only one year out of Juilliard) has a lot going for him. He’s a mathematical genius and is determined to be the first in his school to take A-level examinations that will lead him to a university education. Toward that goal, he has the support of Siobhan, his compassionate teacher. Above all, he has a fierce commitment to the truth.

Armed with these assets, Christopher solves the mystery of Wellington’s death, but the shocking revelation prompts him to flee his father’s home and embark on a journey into the real world, to find his mother.

For a normal teenager, a trip to London would be easily navigable, but not for Christopher, who has never been on a train or a subway before and who cannot understand verbal directions.

I see what you’re thinking

Dramatizing this heroic journey becomes a challenge and a directorial triumph. Director Elliott sets her production in a huge black-and-white box whose three sides act as gridlike computer screens on which are projected the workings for Christopher’s singular mind as he compresses the chaos of the urban world into algebraic formulae that he can comprehend. The walls and ceiling grids come alive with train routes, subway maps, and flashing lights, while the 10-member ensemble (playing multiple roles throughout the production) swarm around Christopher in a simulation of urban jumble.

With miraculous stagecraft and a brilliant design team, Elliott has shown us a vision of the modern world through Christopher’s eyes, a world ablaze in commotion and cacophony. It’s also a world of emotional confusion, where parents hurt each other and lie to their children, and where the deafening noise of their anger cannot be silenced. The order that Christopher’s unique mind imposes on such a dangerous world as a way to survive is a revelation. It’s “the invisible made visible,” and it’s the unique achievement of this inspiring production.

The legendary British-born director Peter Brook has spent an entire theater career making “the invisible visible.” He’s the only director I know bold enough to, for example, stage Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard in an empty space with no scenery save for an oriental carpet — and yet you see those shimmering trees more vividly than in any other production. This is only one of the many theatrical miracles he’s performed.

I hear what you’re seeing

Brook has had a lifelong fascination with the creative process and the mysterious workings of the human brain, topics he’s explored in previous productions, such as The Man Who and I am a Phenomenon. Now, with The Valley of Astonishment, the production he’s codirected with Marie-Hélène Estienne at Theatre for a New Audience, he explores a phenomenon called “synesthesia,” a neurological syndrome in which one sensory pathway stimulates another (for example, a color can be “heard” as music and vice versa).

Set in Brook’s traditional “empty space,” with only three actors and a musician, Valley focuses on the case of Samy Costas, a woman with a remarkable memory. A team of neurologists undertakes a study of her brain, for the purposes of scientific advancement.

Watching the amazing Kathryn Hunter (as Mrs. Costas) perform her superhuman mnemonic feats — memorizing dozens of numbers and words with no sequential logic or thematic connection — is nothing less than astonishing. Even more astonishing is the moment when an exhausted Mrs. Costas, oversaturated with countless facts and figures, begs the doctors: “How do I forget? Teach me how to empty my mind. . . .”

Speaking of individuals like Mrs. Costas and Christopher, Brook says: “These people do not have afflictions. They’re not freaks. They’re humans. And they show us the wonder of human possibility.”

Through their brilliant stagecraft, Brook and Elliott have revealed the marvels of the human mind, made visible to astonished and appreciative audiences.