WarHorse Strides Into Omaha

Theatrical masterpiece WarHorse has magnificently come to Omaha for only a short stay offering a rare, unforgettable experience.

Much has been written locally about the physical heart of the story and how it’s told with extraordinary puppets resembling life-sized versions of horses. Yet Nick Stafford’s adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s young person’s novel goes much deeper and wider than only telling a tale about such creatures and a young man’s love for one of them. As conceived by Stafford, co-directors Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris, this has become a compelling telling of an enduring fable about the horrors, the follies, the cruelties of war. And it unfolds through many kinds of visual stage magic, not intended to mimic reality, but to keep alive the centuries-old traditions of puppetry.  The Chinese, the Japanese, the Romans, the Greeks, the Arabs in the days of their empires all expressed their heritages, their cultures, their beliefs, their dreams in an art form whose characters came to life through human hands moving rods or strings or were physically visible as if caressing figures made of wood, cloth, metal, wire. A different kind of life.   

So it is that from the very start of WarHorse you are immersed in song and symbol while members of the massive cast assemble, disperse, re-assemble in new roles. They also manipulate simple props while above them, on a fragment of a screen, elemental line drawings in black and white point the way to time and location of what unfolds. Make no mistake. This is not a movie, even though dramatic music by Adrian Sutton underscores many scenes. This is not Steven Spielberg’s impressive, thoroughly literal representation of the same story. This is live theatre wherein you are asked to abandon the need to expect a simulation of reality. Here you suspend disbelief, even while your eyes take in humans who are obviously moving birds and beautiful horses.

Young Albert Narracott’s  father Ted buys a stray colt at a horse auction and charges Albert with taking care of the animal. Boy and creature bond. That bond is torn asunder when Ted sells the horse, Joey, to the British cavalry to be used in the fighting and killing amid the mud and horrors of World War I. Joey and another horse, Topthorn, eventually fall into the care of German officer, Friedrich Muller, who hopes to escape with them back home to a life of peace. After Topthorn dies and Muller is killed, Joey runs away and seems lost forever. Meanwhile Albert, having enlisted in the army, is somewhere in France hoping to find Joey amid the death and terror that shatter the skies and the earth. 

Beautiful and emotionally moving scenes abound even while technical wonders never cease to amaze.  Joey, both young and fully-grown, pulses and endears as an expressive, living being due to the artistry of the original creators, Adrian Kohler, Basil Jones and South Africa’s Handspring Puppet Company. Equally the live artists manipulating Joey succeed in making him as alive as they.

The production comes full of imaginative visual marvels. One moment encapsulates such brilliance  perfectly. A horse (not Joey) dies in battle and, as the body sinks to the ground, humans who had made it move, emerge with choreographed precision and float off-stage. The body remains. The soul has departed. I leave you to make other discoveries of your own.

You might be pleased to know that despite the seriousness of the story, there are comic lines and situations. In one such, a British sergeant waiting to lead his charges into battle discovers that, amid the ranks, Albert carries a picture of his horse instead of what would be normal for a soldier, a picture of a girlfriend. Hearty mockery.   

I see no point in singling out individual performances; this is an ensemble creation and each person, in even the smallest role, serves the conception superbly.  

You do need to know, however, that English characters have various regional accents and that the Germans and French are represented as if speaking their languages but doing so in English with German and French accents. There is much rich dialogue requiring your attention, reminding us that this is a play, a drama, one that has become a classic.    

Cherish it.
Gordon Spencer

WarHorse continues through its 7.00 p.m. performance on Sunday April 13^th at the Orpheum Theater, 409 South 16th Street, Omaha. Tickets are $40 to $90. There’s more information at www.omahaperformingarts.org.