In a way “The Nutcracker” is a misleading title as it will surely remind you of previous versions of the story told in the past. It’s a “classic”, it’s “timeless” and you might be forgiven if you expect to see something rather familiar, but done extremely well. What The National Ballet of Canada is performing is something wholly inventive and new. Its layers upon layers upon layers of creativity, detail, characters, and little actions taking place merely for the sake of curious, darting eyes used to taking in so much visual stimulation. It’s about sets, costumes, and whimsical animals that only seem to become more real the longer you let your eyes linger on them. Dancing bears, galloping horses, and small, portly chefs that get up to mischief, just off the corner of your peripheral vision. I say this as someone who is professionally over-stimulated all the time. Their version of The Nutcracker has more actions “on-screen” than the most dazzling video games, more layers in the background than a Ridley Scott film, and more pupil-awakening detail than the largest 1080p High Definition televisions, which would surely be sent home with its HDMI cable dangling between its legs in defeat.

Standing backstage during yesterday’s performance I had the dizzying privilege of seeing all of the costumes, sets, and performers up-close. The craftsmanship and detail is beyond sanity. Having been on many television sets, as well as film sets and theatrical stages, I know well what most props are supposed to look like, the tricks that are used to take something simple, sometimes crude, and make it come alive under the lights. The elements crafted by Santo Loquasto and his team have that fanatic’s craze to them that you sometimes see in the props of Hollywood F/X artists, where they will keep adding detail after detail, more than anyone will ever see or notice, and keep doing so until someone forcibly restrains them. The more you gaze, you inspect, you allow your eyes to explore the armor of the Cossak mice or the trim of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s Faberge egg, the more convincing they become.

Backstage the result is that you feel as if you’re in a Lewis Carroll novel. “Excuse me” piped a little voice at my side while tugging at my leggings. Looking down I found six little mice sneaking past me to reach the stage. Behind me, a dancing bear spun its intimidating girth in practice upon its pointed feet while letting out very-human sighs and little noises of anticipation. Russian dancers, after bounding and leaping through the air on stage came careening past me like crash-landing eagles, their ribcages heaving and sucking to desperately pull in oxygen to catch up with their exertion. Their beards swayed under their gasping mouths, their eyes taking in whatever sympathy yours might have for them.

The talent is at the level of human spectacle. Despite daily performances over the course of weeks the dancers push themselves to their limits on-stage minute after minute. True ballet is something you cannot capture in pictures or film and the dancers here not only form moments of beautiful symmetry and shape, but bend your perception with illusions and a staggering ability to emulate animals from nature.

The horse is astonishingly real. The costume is convincing on its own, just sitting to the side in its storage, but once the dancers slip inside their movements don’t merely create a walk that reminds us of a horse, but through the way they shift their weight, move on the balls of their feet, they create an illusion you can’t brake. Like a mantra, stage crew and extras have to repeat to themselves “it’s not a real horse, it’s not a real horse” less they forget that it can be spoken to and asked to move out of the way. You know how it works of course, there’s two people, one is the “back” and the other the “front”, but when that horse rears back on its hind legs and kicks at the air, that information doesn’t help you.

There is a point in the second half of the story when two maidens, dressed in ornate, mystical black masks and matching feathers perform a delicate dance where they shimmer and float together, slightly apart but synchronized in a way that doesn’t seem planned, but natural, like the ritualized dances of long, slender-necked sea birds. This is not the typical hover or bounce that we think of with ballet, but a quick delicate flutter of calves and thighs, so close together they create a stereoscopic beating of light that is mesmerizing and comforting. It’s an effect you can only experience live, in-person from the audience.

One of the many types of layers used is a range of ages and skill in the performers. The production relies heavily on the inclusion of children, not just in the main roles of Misha and Marie, but with the help of students from the National Ballet School who take up the roles of the many baby mice, prancing lambs, and portly chefs who fill the stage with miniature stories within the story. These dancers have none of the awkwardness or cute distraction we often think of with kids on stage, but match their grown-up counter-parts in focus and commitment and through their imagination bring a little something extra.

The kids are one of the Nutcracker’s big draws, watching them move in unison as sheep with hands curled in a prancing shape or seeing them playfully toss cherries and other ingredients in the big food fight, it isn’t merely about them being adorable, but it’s a chance to see their imaginations in full swing, in full play with the very best costumes and props to match.With every performance there are two roles reserved for people outside of the ballet community. Television hosts, actors, writers, and journalists, those who are apt to handle stage fright, are invited to play two of the toy dolls that come alive during the big battle scene.

It’s an honor to share the stage with the National Ballet, but I also hope I’ve communicated how utterly intimidating it is to actually join the troupe and do your best not to be the false note in the whole affair.

Kris Abel and Libby Norris as Cannon Dolls in the Dec. 28th performance 

There have been more than 400 celebrity cannon dolls including performances by Margaret Atwood, Mats Sundin, Kurt Browning, and Doug Gilmore. This past Sunday night Canadian Idol judges Zack Werner and Jake Gold took on the doll roles while I and fellow Canada AM contributor Libby Norris followed in the next performance on Monday.

To be sure the National Ballet is way too kind with this program, but it’s nice that they have such a sense of community about what they do.

Most wonder why the Cannon Dolls wear such outlandish, clown-like outfits, but I figured it out quite quickly. The production is like a piece of clockwork with 174 performers and 57 stage crew all working together in concise, practiced precision. The doll costumes make it clear to everyone involved who the “newbies” are so they can avoid any potential problems and should a cannon doll trip or cause the works to collapse, it can be quickly played off as a bit of slapstick.

Those who watch carefully will notice that amongst the toys in Misha and Marie’s rooms are a set of dolls, one at the foot of each of their beds. It’s these dolls that come alive during the big battle scene and are played by the outsiders, accompanying the Cannoneer in adding a bit of pyrotechnics to the battle between the Nutcracker and the Mouse Tsar.

Libby and I were given just twenty minutes of direction, told where to stand and where to go, then given the freedom to just make up our parts and “have fun with it”. The general story idea is that Marie’s doll is shy and taken aback by all the fighting and so does her level best to silence the cannon, not wanting to add to the stressful chaos, while Misha’s doll is typical of boys in that he’s excited by the cannon and wants to help the Nutcracker defeat the Mouse Tsar and so cheers on the cannon and taunts the mice. How we interpreted that is something we sort of made up on-stage.

Our moment among the lights, before a sold-out audience, alongside a group far more talented than we are, lasted only a mere few minutes, but left me with a high the deprived me of any sleep later that night and a memory that I’ll carry forever.