Warhorse Rides On to the New London Theatre

How can you stage a London production that has, as one of its main characters, a horse? If that conundrum interests you then the solution that Warhorse provides will intrigue you. Tackling the logistical problems of adaptation head-on, the play succeeds in delivering horses so convincing and well animated they manage to steal the show.

A Michael Morpurgo children’s book, returning for a second sold-out season at the National Theatre, Warhorse is a solid and original, if conventional, narrative of boy and beast, war and hope. The story begins in a parochial Devon of somewhat diverse rural accents, when a drunken father buys a foal and entrusts it to his young son, Albert, who calls it Joey. Their relationship is precarious from the outset and remains under threat until they are separated by the innocent approach of the First World War and its ensuing chaos.

At the centre of the production, perhaps above it, stand the horses. Their wooden frames, fabric skins and articulating mechanisms are the work of the Handspring Puppet Company, although I am reluctant to call them puppets, as they are life-size frames operated by up to four people, with dynamic movements, and capable of being ridden, not a string in sight.

The attention to detail is astonishing. Many hours have gone into studying and replicating every equine detail, physical and behavioural, even down to the rounded nose which makes Joey every inch the hunter he is meant to be. The effect of having a horse on stage, a horse that can act, is achieved and the quirky novelty soon gives way to the complete illusion that they are real. The panto horse is truly dead.

But can amazing horses be enough? No. What about amazing horses in a production that is also tight and creative in its use of the stage, props, backdrops and other physical elements, as this one is? I’m afraid not and, sadly, while the horses do their bit, some less successful elements come through: the young boy, Albert, is not young enough; too often, the acting is ham-Dram; some unnecessary comedy makes the tone uneven in places, and a wild card German goose-steps the line between bizarre and absurd (I still need convincing that military Germans are viable characters post-‘Allo ‘Allo).

But there is much to recommend in Warhorse. The war elements in particular are horrifying, tragic and tragicomic – quite real enough for comfort, all in all. Ultimately, one can be satisfied with the conclusion that here, as in all great animal stories, from Lassie to Flipper, it’s the animals that shine, and that’s just how it should be.

Warhorse is showing at the National Theatre until January 12
South Bank
SE1 9PX

Box office: 020 7452 3000

It is then at the New London Theatre from March 31
Drury Lane
WC2B 5PW

Box office: 0870 890 0141