Today, I arranged for a creative team field trip for my colleagues who have been working tirelessly to bring my play ISABELLE to the Creative Center at Manhattan Theater Club in the way of a workshop reading. One of my favorite current plays on Broad-a-way, CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT-TIME, seemed like the ideal choice. Although the book by Mark Haddon has been popular since its release in 2003—particularly with people who are affected with autism or work with those who are—most New York theatre goers first heard of the play while it was running in London’s West End last season. Sadly, it was the production in which eighty-eight audience members were injured because of a partial roof collapse at the London theater, the Apollo.

The reason I chose this particular piece was purely based on staging. Sure, the narrative is interesting enough: a young boy is accused of killing a neighbor’s dog and sets out on a detective-type mission to find the true culprit, along the way, solving an even greater family mystery. But what’s really admirable about the production is in the storytelling—much of the tale is told as seen through the eyes of a child with autism, and this perspective-driven staging takes the production from curious to highly credible.

The set is particularly unique—don’t expect the typical, set pieces sliding on and off from the wings via tracks in the floor. No backdrops, either, flying down from the rafters. The set is pretty much a single entity, an electronic grid system of sorts that becomes the foundation of every scene, whether it be the London underground, a classroom for special needs students, or the interior of a suburban home. Mere suggestions of place, like the outline of a house in lights or a table that comes up from the floor, are used to transport the audience from one locale to the next. Really, an amped up PETER AND THE STARCATCHER with a seemingly larger budget, a lot of the work here is actor-driven, and it’s not hard to suspend your disbelief and buy into director Marianne Elliott’s spectacular world.

The production is particularly adept at using just ten cast members to tell a tale sprinkled with many incidental characters: police officers, passers-by, information desk attendants. I was shocked the first time I saw the show, when these ten diverse actors came out at curtain call. Minus the four leads, the remaining performers play an incredible cast of characters—I was blissfully unaware that I was watching the same six, seamlessly embody one quirky persona after another.

There aren’t too many drawbacks to the play, although Act II does drag a bit, in my humble opinion. There’s an especially long sequence where our hero makes a perilous solo journey to London. While the shenanigans that ensue are a clever interpretation of the way people with autism see the world and struggle to navigate day-to-day life, it does go on. There’s also a good deal of family bickering and yelling in Act II, and while I certainly understand the reality of family dynamics, it was a bit tedious. Also—obviously a choice—still, my colleague John remarked that the main character had little vocal variation when speaking—literally, one note—and that grew a bit wearisome after a while. Others seemed pleased that the actor was not directed to take on a lot of the stereotypical nuances often perceived in those with autism. Regardless, the play is well worth seeing, particularly for the unique staging that I forecast we will see much more of in upcoming contemporary plays. In the end, even if you don’t fall head over heels in love with this piece, there’s a shamelessly adorable puppy that woke up some of my fellow theatre-goers near the end of the second act. Lead character “Christopher” also has a pet rat and… well, that’s just fun.