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Based on the novel by Michael Morpurgo. Adapted by Nick Stafford. Directed by Marianne Elliott & Tom Morris. Until June 30 at the Princess of Wales Theatre, 300 King St. W. 416-872-1212.

When I stood weeping in London鈥檚 Olivier Theatre in February of 2008, after the end of War Horse, I never dreamt that only four years later I would have the bittersweet joy of shedding the same tears in 海角社区官网for the work of an all-Canadian company of the same show.

But thanks to Mirvish Productions, that is exactly what happened on Tuesday night at the Princess of Wales Theatre when the bold, brave and brilliant production of War Horse had its Canadian premiere to an emotionally enthusiastic audience.

Much has been written in the past four years about the unique power of this show, based on Michael Morpurgo鈥檚 novel about a young British boy named Albert Narracott who follows his beloved horse, Joey, to the battlefields of Europe during World War I.

There are so many factors combining to create the entity known as War Horse: a strongly compelling story, an astonishingly theatrical form of presentation and the opportunity for a company of actors to stretch their 鈥� and our 鈥� emotions to the limit.

Standing front and centre, in every sense of the word, are the creations of South Africa鈥檚 Handspring Puppet Company, which allow us to treat Joey and his other equine fellows as creatures made of flesh and blood, instead of the canvas and cane that they鈥檙e actually constructed from.

I鈥檝e never been sentimental in the slightest over horses and yet, every time Joey passes through a moment of deep emotion, I was profoundly moved, thanks to the artistry of the horse鈥檚 creators and the three actors (Brad Cook, Bryan Hindle and Caden Douglas) whose skilled manipulation make him truly live.

But if this was a show based only on clever puppetry, it wouldn鈥檛 possess the hold over our feelings that it does. The bedrock on which it rests is Morpurgo鈥檚 novel, brought to the stage by Nick Stafford.

We begin with a dysfunctional Devonshire family, where Ted Narracott drinks and brags and bullies to hide his feelings of inferiority for his older brother, Arthur. Somehow this leads to Joey, the magical horse of the title, winding up as a farm animal for Ted, his long-suffering wife, Rose, and their lonely son, Albert, who takes the horse on as his friend.

But the coming of World War I sends Joey overseas with the army and that鈥檚 when everyone鈥檚 world changes as Albert sets out in pursuit. Throughout the show, it鈥檚 fascinating to see how the themes and concerns of the early British farm scenes are echoed in the battlefield of No Man鈥檚 Land.

The joint direction of Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris manages to mine all the dramatic gold that lies buried in this story, simultaneously telling small personal stories, while splashing the saga against the backdrop of 鈥渢he war to end all wars鈥� and then broadening things further to include mythic concerns reminiscent of the story of Orpheus.

Aided by the minimal, yet splendid, scenery of Rae Smith and the haunting lighting of Paule Constable, they take us into the very heart of darkness, finding an eerie beauty in the ghostly world where men slay each other without any real reason.

The battle scenes strike us with almost painful force, as deafening shots and blinding flashes of light show us the too-cruel way that soldiers had to die in this (or any) war. And through it all, the soaringly symphonic score of Adrian Sutton contrasts with the simple songs selected by John Tams, sung here with poignant effect by Melanie Doane.

When one looks at the cast, the level of commitment and talent is almost blinding. From young Alex Furber, who carries the burden of playing the central role, Albert, with true distinction, to the bellicose rage of Brad Rudy as his father, or the steely determination of Tamara Bernier-Evans as his mother and Richard McMillian as his uncle and Steven Yaffee as his nephew, the entire family ring true.

And one gets to the military scenes, there are equally moving performances from Brendan Murray as a sensitive officer/artist, Brian Paul as a foul-mouthed sergeant and, above all else, Patrick Galligan as a horse-loving German soldier who brings a breath of humanism into the carnage.

War Horse, in the end, glorifies life and makes us glad to be in a city where theatre this heart-stoppingly wonderful can take place.