946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips

Theater review by Helen Shaw

Kneehigh is back. For those who are familiar with the Emma Rice–led, Cornwall-based company, they'll know that its return means the Cute is stalking Brooklyn. Kneehigh makes plays that are children's shows for adults: lots of vivid colors, rousing music (played by multitalented actors), big feelings and puppets. A Kneehigh production—like their current 946: The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips—is like a merry-go-round. From the outside it seems like the worst ride imaginable; you have to be on it to enjoy it.

I hasten to note that Kneehigh can be delectable, even for those of us with an underdeveloped theatrical sweet tooth. Its 2003 Tristan and Yseult, for instance, is the ne plus ultra of whimsy done right. And at its adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's YA novel The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips, much of the audience was in raptures. How to guess which sort of reaction you might have? Well, did you like War Horse? A minority found thatadaptation of Morpurgo's other pet-in-a-war story a cloying irritant; that response is a good indicator for whether you will bridle at this one.

I certainly bridled—and the trouble began early. If you'll notice, Kneehigh has extended Morpugo's title. Adolphus Tips is a fictional kitty cat that lives in England during WWII; the show's hero is his owner, a girl called Lily (Katy Owen), who has, all told, a pretty easy war. 946, on the other hand, is the number of actual American soldiers who died at Slapton Sands—a staging area for the Normandy invasion. Some of the Yanks were killed in a training exercise that used live ammunition; others drowned when German E boats sailed (essentially unopposed) up to the beach and sank their transports. “You could walk to the shore on the bodies,” said one witness, in an account of the rarely acknowledged tragedy. So. That colon in the title is doing a lot.

When we enter, there's no question we're at another Kneehigh joint. There's already a band on the upper level of the storybook set (blue sky, green floorboards, a big airplane propeller), playing high-energy cover songs, and there are plenty of ladders to scamper up and down. A prologue introduces us to a boy (Adam Sopp) and his Grandma (Mike Shepherd in panto drag). In the first of many bizarrely cruel moments, Grandma ditches out of Grandpa's funeral so she can go pursue her “options.” (This is presented as high-spirited and awesome, not callous and inhumane.) She does leave behind her childhood diary, though, to hint at where she's gone. The bulk of the play is then about Grandma's 12-year-old self, living near Slapton Sands in 1944.

As the young Lily, Owens jumps all over furniture, talks baby-talk, is casually cruel to an evacuee staying with her family, flips with her pigtails and fails to raise a finger around the farm. Lily is supposed to be 12, but Owen plays her as a five-year-old and this choice, more than anything else in Rice's production, sours its sweetness. Lily meets two black American soldiers—the sympathetic Adi (Ncuti Gatwa) and Harry (Nandi Bhebhe)—who seem strangely charmed by her. Miraculously, we never see any racism from their white American commander, nor from the English. But then we're in a sugar-coated World War Twee where everyone was wonderful to everybody, even though the Jewish French teacher seems a little sad. When a German pilot who has been probably bombing the town parachutes out of his plane, the townspeople gently lead him away while singing about tolerance.

There's a long, proud history of telling the story of wartime through children's (comparatively) innocent eyes. The things they don't see as can be as telling as the things they do. But Adolphus Tips never questions the rose-colored glasses; rather, Rice and Morpugo are jamming them onto our faces. Here's just one example of the show's upside-down morality: After one of the Americans has drowned (in a physical-theater dance-y way, of course), he goes into the afterlife where he plays with puppets of Lily and that danged cat. He didn't have family? He didn't see God? Does the show think Lily was rightto be such a narcissistic pill? As I say, I fell off the ride early, and for two hours, I suffered. But there was laughter all around me, and shining faces—old and young. Okay, so Kneehigh didn't teach me anything this time about war or hope or merriment or cats. At least they made me experience loss.

St. Ann's Warehouse. By Emma Rice and Michael Morpugo. Adapted from a book by Morpugo. Directed by Rice. With ensemble cast. Running time: 2hrs 15mins. One intermission. Through Apr 9.