‘Keep it silly, Ryan. And remember, you’re not Roald Dahl’. This was my maxim while I was adapting Esio Trot for the stage. Mine is an adaptation with a simple aim: to tell Roald Dahl’s much-loved story on stage in a way that is fresh and fun. It’s not an adaptation that’s going to shake the foundations of the theatrical world, and I’m okay with that. But what I did want to do was produce a play that could be a breath of fresh air, something bright and frivolous that acts as a reminder that life, when it boils down to it, is mostly quite silly.

There has been a feast of new student writing this term, notably Michael Campbell’s Killing Other People and Bethan Kitchen’s upcoming Coco: two pieces of brave and highly original work. However, I feel as though my job with Esio Trot was quite a different one. Roald Dahl provided me with the quirky premise and the subtly unhinged characters; my job was to transfer them onto the stage in a way that was theatrically effective.

I’m not going to claim that it was an easy job, nor one that required little creative input. Adapting is a tricky business. It’s a constant balance between staying true to Dahl’s beloved story and telling it in a way that is both original and works on stage. Wes Anderson’s 2009 film adaptation of Fantastic Mr. Fox was a source of inspiration, and, in many ways, my model. One of my favourite films, it retains the skeleton of Dahl’s story, fleshed out with zany characters and snappy dialogue that have become Anderson’s hallmark.

In my version of Esio, I added in the character of Humphrey: the roundabout-loving, bassoon-playing next-door neighbour who appears as Mr. Hoppy’s arch-nemesis. The biggest change I made, however, was choosing to tell the story through the eyes of Alfie: both the protagonist of the piece, and a tortoise. And while tortoises are not traditionally considered to be heroes (Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Raphael, I must emphasise, are turtles, teenage mutant ninja ones at that), Alfie offers a slightly more cynical perspective that I felt was a little lacking in the original story.

The issue of writers directing their own work is one that is frequently raised. My favourite filmmakers are almost exclusively writer/directors: Paul Thomas Anderson, Robert Rodriguez, Michael Haneke and, of course, Wes Anderson. On stage Beckett and Pinter both directed their own work at times, whilst in the colosseum that is Cambridge theatre, Alex MacKeith (Oresteia) and Charlie Parham (Sophie Scholl) both managed to do it with great success just last term. I can absolutely understand that ineluctable link between the vision that the playwright has for their script, and the process of bringing that vision to fruition.

In spite of all this, I chose not to direct my own work, for two reasons. Firstly, I am simply not a director. I do not have the vision, the organisation, or the decisive nature required of such creatures. And secondly, while I’m happy with the script I’ve produced, I know that my job is done. I am truly lucky to have snaffled a cast of the funniest humans one could hope to find, and a director who is not only a great friend, but honest enough to say: “Ryan, this is utter piffle”, something that every playwright needs. (She hasn’t yet, but I can’t help feeling it is an inevitability).

The most important point of all, I leave until last: Esio Trot is a story for children. I was vigilant, even with my self-indulgent, playwright’s hat on, not to lose sight of this. Perhaps, helped by the fact that mine is the sense-of-humour of a five-year-old, my adaptation attempts to retain the vibrancy and silliness of a child’s story. Roald Dahl is arguably the greatest children’s author of all time, and my adaptation has no right to turn his work into something that it is not. 

Amidst the greyness of existence that is the beginning of Lent Term, I truly hope that Esio Trot can be a response to the plea of Mole from Fantastic Mr. Fox: ‘I just want to see a little sunshine’.

Ryan Ammar's original adaptation of Roald Dahl's Esio Trot is next week's ADC late show: Wed 6th - Sat 9th Feb, 11pm.

Michael Campbell's A Playwright Lets Go and Bethan Kitchen's A Playwright Directs can be found in the Arts section of the Varsity website.