War Horse

On paper this production shouldn’t work at all. War Horse is a play based on a relatively obscure 80’s novel about a boy’s beloved horse being sold to the British army during World War I which uses puppets to tell the story. Nothing of this kind had achieved commercial success in the West End before, but it is the production’s innovation and creativity that have made it an indisputable triumph. After opening at the National Theatre in 2007, it transferred to the West End two years later, where it has been running ever since and set numerous box office records – a remarkable accomplishment for a non-musical drama. It was recently adapted into a film by Steven Spielberg.

The story is fairly simple. In a village in rural Devon, young Albert forms an unbreakable bond with his beloved horse, Joey. When his father sells Joey to the British cavalry at the outset of World War I, Joey finds himself on the front lines of the war, serving for both the British and German armies on the western front. Despite being too young, Albert decides to enlist in the army in an attempt to find his horse and bring him home.

The production, directed by Marianne Elliot and Tom Morris, displays an astounding level of stagecraft. South Africa’s Handspring Puppet Company created life-sized puppets of Joey at various ages, deftly brought to life by three actors each. Every nuance of a horse’s movement is carefully observed, and the audience is easily engrossed in the equine protagonist’s story in a bleak, disarming, and entirely unique take on the horrors of war.  Clever use is made of film projections of an army officer’s drawings which set the scene for the various locales and contribute greatly to the production’s overall aesthetic.

War Horse boasts a large ensemble, with actors alternating in and out of their roles as the horse’s puppeteers due to the physical demands of the parts. There are some weak links as some performers seem stuck in the rut of having to play the same role for months (if not years), but overall the cast is fairly strong, with Rachel Sanders notably moving as Albert’s long-suffering mother. The second half drags a bit, but I was unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion at the finale, and judging from the dozens of hankies in the audience all around me, I wasn’t the only one.

This production deserves all of the many accolades and acclaim it has won, not only for its unfailing ability to pull at the audience’s heartstrings, but for its brave, imaginative, and downright magical theatricality.