"War Horse' at Lincoln Center in New York

The extraordinary War Horse tells a timeless story that would tug at any heartstring: a boy and his undying love for his horse. But what gives this story its special power is its broader panorama.

The story covers the traumatic years of World War I, a war involving some two dozen countries that swept across Europe and killed more than 10 million people. It was the first full-scale international conflict involving mass slaughter, long-range artillery, rapid-fire machine guns, poisonous gas, flamethrowers, tanks, and airplanes, all inspiring terror and degrees of suffering yet unheard of.

But how can a playwright bring it home to an audience that's heard the gruesome facts before in a new, vivid, visceral way?

That was the challenge for Michael Morpurgo, whose novel War Horse was the basis of the play (adapted by Nick Stafford). Morpurgo grew up in London in the aftermath of World War II in a family that had been permanently scarred by it. He played in bombsites; he lost an uncle in the conflict and was left with a mourning mother.

An old man's tears

But the idea for a compelling war story didn't come to Morpurgo until years later, after he'd moved to Devon in the English countryside, and came across an old painting of a cavalry charge in World War I. In it, one of the horse's legs was caught up in the barbed wire.

One evening, Morpurgo shared this image with an old villager in his local pub. The old man wept and filled Morpurgo with World War I stories, and of how he himself had left a horse he'd loved behind to be sold off to the French butchers for meat. At that moment, the idea of the novel (and later, the play) came to Morpurgo: World War I as seen through the eyes of a horse.

As adapted for the stage by Nick Stafford, War Horse tells this story simply and sublimely. Young Alfred, born and raised in a Devon village, has just turned 16 when Archduke Franz Ferdinand is assassinated in Sarajevo on June 28, 1914.

At the time, Alfred is raising a horse named Joey, a free-spirited hunter to whom Alfred is passionately devoted, but who his bankrupt father threatens to sell unless Alfred converts him into a plough horse to earn his keep. At war's outbreak, Joey is sold to the cavalry and shipped to France, where he's soon caught up in enemy fire, serving on both sides and ultimately ending up in no man's land.

Meanwhile, Alfred cannot forget Joey. Though he's not yet old enough to enlist, Alfred embarks on a treacherous mission to find Joey and bring him home.

Life-size puppets

What makes this production so magical is the unique stagecraft employed to tell this simple, linear tale. Joey, the central character, is played"“ first as a colt and then as a grown horse"“ by two life-size puppets. Perhaps "puppet" isn't the right word for the Handspring Puppet Company's magical creations. "Larger-than-life-size sculpture" is more accurate"“ and living, breathing sculpture it is, too.

The craft is sheer magic, the work of Handspring's remarkable founders, Adrian Kohler and Basil Jones. Having been enlisted by the Royal National Theatre to "build" Joey, as well as six other horses in the play, they approached their assignment as if they were creating living dramatis personae. The horse puppets, crafted after months of studying horse anatomy, are made from cane, aluminum, leather and stretched "georgette" (a synthetic fabric).

Under the shell of the life-size Joey puppet are two actor/puppeteers, plus one who walks alongside Joey, operating his head with a wand-like instrument. Together, they propel Joey around the stage, breathing, stamping, neighing, whinnying, shuddering, his mane shaking, tail twitching, legs shifting, ears pricking, flank shivering.

Dying in the field

It's remarkable to watch. After a few moments, you forget that this is a puppet/sculpture, and you forget the three puppeteers. Once you accept the "conceit" of these living horse puppets, they're more thrilling than seeing live horses on stage"“ because they are, in fact, groundbreaking works of theater art.

The production's unforgettable moments all involve these remarkable creations, such as the row of horses (mounted by actors) as they prepare to charge in a battle, or a scene in which two starving horses die in the field, their giant shredded carcasses draped across the stage like horrific specters of war.

Directors Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris tell the story with a cast of 34 actors (in addition to more than a dozen puppeteers for the horses), playing multiple roles, including the villagers of Devon and the soldiers in France.

Recurring tune

The story is narrated by an accordionist who sings war songs of the period, accompanied by the ensemble. "Only remembered for what we have done…" is the recurring tune that serves as this war story's moving leitmotif. No doubt about it: This War Horse will be long remembered.

During a talkback session at Lincoln Center, Kohler and Jones mentioned that Steven Spielberg has optioned War Horse for a film. But the puppeteers haven't been hired"“ instead, live horses will be used. I can't imagine that the real thing could be as magical or as moving as the theatrical one.