THE KITE RUNNER
Adapted by Matthew Spangler
Based on the novel by Khalid Hosseini
Directed by Giles Croft
Starring Amir Arison
Hayes Theatre
Official Website
Reviewed by David Spencer
Received wisdom along The Street in the wake of some negative reviews (none of which I have read, as I start writing this review) is that The Kite Runner is to be avoided.
Don’t you believe it.
The play, by Matthew Spangler, is an adaptation of Afghan-American author Khalid Hosseini’s debut and breakout novel of the same title (unrelated to the film adaptation). Mixed reviews have dogged it since a 2009 premiere in San Francisco, a 2014 engagement at the Nottingham Playhouse in England and a West End transfer in 2016. Always directed by Giles Croft, as it is now at the Hayes Theatre in 2022. And that’s significant. To the best of my knowledge, no single production just keeps popping up every few years unless there’s something impervious about it, unless it’s something audiences want to see.
The Kite Runner is a memory play, narrated (like the novel) by its main character, Amir (Amir Arison). He talks of being haunted by an “unatoned sin” he committed as a well-off child in 1970s Kabul: Hassan (Eric Sirakian) was his servant and kite running partner—also his friend, though Amir always hesitated to embrace that word until it was too late, resulting in an act of cowardice and betrayal born of Amir’s desperate need to please his father (Farman Tahir). But then In 2001, after Amir has become a man and settled in America, he receives a call telling him: “There is a way to be good again.“ This will lead to a dangerous trip, on the eve of the American invasion, into Taliban-controlled Kabul.
If that sounds compelling…well, it is.
I’m leaving out a number of characters and plot turns you might read elsewhere because, if you don’t know the story (and I didn’t), it’s extraordinarily well and intricately plotted. As a family-centric drama, some of it is predictable—in that way of certain family dynamics being universally recognizable if not universally experienced—but some of it will take you by surprise; and when the reversals come, they are of course satisfyingly inevitable.
The production itself is quite modest—without the visuals, you would probably have a radio play that needs little or no alteration to be comprehensible—but it doesn’t need more than what it has. As to the casting—I’ve never singled out a casting director before (my oversight), but one must cite Laura Stanczyk for drawing in a nearly all-star roster of players authentically suited to this material and portraying this culture. In addition to Mr. Arison—you may know him from The Blacklist—whose performance is as nuanced, sensitive and fearless-about-confronting-fear as you might hope, and the two performers previously mentioned, the cast includes Evan Zes, Amir Malaklou, Darius’s Kashani, Azita Ghanizada and Houslanger Touzie.
In the space between the last paragraph and this one, I have paused to read some of the reviews, and to the best of my ability to parse the negativity (and by the way, there are some glowing reviews as well), The Kite Runner, in its original iteration as a novel, is very personally felt by readers. The kind of book wherein, if an adapter doesn’t tap into the empathic connection experienced by the reader exactly the way the reader experienced it, the adaptation is thought to be off the mark. On a personal note: This is something I’ve encountered before in my own career—but only a little; when my and Menken’s musical of the Canadian classic The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz opened in Montreal in 2015, most of the reviews there and country-wide were raves; but there was a prominent Toronto review which had absolutely nothing to do with the show and everything to do with the critic’s relationship to the original novel by Mordecai Richler. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about that except note the phenomenon; when a book famously hits at the emotions of its readership so hard, there will be proprietary feelings of ownership; of guardianship.
There are two things to consider in this wise. The first is that, in transforming anything from one storytelling medium to another, the adapter is somehow going to change it. The very act of transformation mandates change—to many things. Ultimately, the adapter, in the best case, will try to capture the illusion of faithfulness. And that’s a whole other essay.
But the second thing that must be considered is the audience reaction. Are they concentrating? Do they noticeably react when someone they care about is hurt, or hurts someone else? Do the humorous lines land properly? And finally, what happens at the end? I mean yes, okay, standing ovations come more easily these days than in eras past, but they don’t come cheap or free. I still see many shows on Broadway where the proportion of butts remaining in seats at the curtain call gives you a crucial reading.
At The Kite Runner, the audience fairly leaps to its feet. I’ve been in this game a long time, from both sides of the proscenium, and I promise you, there is no mistaking when an audience delivers a YES! in the wake of catharsis. And when they do so at The Kite Runner, it’s because they’ve just been told a story, by a smart creative team and excellent cast, that runs an emotional gamut through a well-made plot about very human flaws and earned redemption. And learned something about another culture besides.
And for goodness’ sake, especially now, when there’s aggravating polarization everywhere you look, about every damn thing, what more does a play need to do to be worthy?
Forget anything you’ve heard that may discourage you.
The Kite Runner is running through October.
Run to see it.