War Horse

War Horse

War Horse gallops from the stage into your heart; pure theatrical and puppetry magic.

Wow! What a show! I’m sure by now you’ve seen images of the horses, but let me tell you, seeing them in real life is something else entirely. The sheer size and presence of them leaves a lasting impact. You genuinely have to see it to believe it.

But let’s start at the beginning. War Horse is based on the novel of the same name by Sir Michael Morpurgo, first published in 1982. Inspired by a painting and a series of interviews with veterans, this story of a boy and his horse during the First World War has touched millions, and the stage version, created by the National Theatre, is just as moving.

Rae Smith’s set design is inspired. High upstage sits what looks like a torn strip of canvas, a nod to both the original painting and wartime imagery. This is used to project animations and drawings that beautifully guide us through changes in location and the passage of time. It’s clever without being overcomplicated, and the projections are used sparingly enough to keep their impact. helping to follow the locations and time passing along with some clever moments where they add in more troops.

A quick note for audiences; there’s a content warning worth mentioning. As you might expect from the title, the majority of the play is set during the war. There are loud gunshots, rumbling effects, and flashing lights, so it may not be suitable for very young viewers or those with sensory sensitivities.

At its heart, this is a puppet show, and what a puppet show it is. Directors Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris, with Katie Henry as Revival Director dive straight into that world. Two birds circle the stage early on, held high by visible puppeteers. Their shadows add an extra layer of magic and playfulness.

The first version of Joey we meet is a foal, brought to life by three brilliant puppeteers: Eloise Beaumont-Wood (Head), Clara Lioe (Heart), and Jordan Paris (Hind). I don’t want to underplay what they achieve here, it’s immediately convincing. The movement is so detailed, so precise, that within moments, we accept Joey entirely as a living creature. If the show had stayed with this smaller puppet all the way through, it still would have been exceptional, but then…

Older Joey arrives. Played by Rianna Ash (Head), Chris Milford (Heart), and Samuel Parker (Hind), this life-sized puppet storms the stage with such presence that the audience literally gasps. He’s huge, possibly even slightly larger than life, and moves with incredible fluidity and articulation. Ears twitch, tail swishes, legs shift with muscular grace. Just when you think you’ve taken it all in, one of the actors mounts him and rides him. It’s jaw-dropping.

The puppetry design, fabrication, and direction come from Adrian Kohler for Handspring Puppet Company. The genius of their approach is in not trying to make the horses hyper-realistic. You can see the mechanics: the frames, the joints, even the silhouettes of the puppeteers when they’re backlit. That’s the point. This isn’t about hiding the artifice, it’s about celebrating it. Your imagination fills in the gaps, and somehow, it makes the experience even more absorbing. It’s theatrical storytelling at its best.

Even the goose, wheeled about on a simple mechanism reminiscent of vintage children’s toys, steals the show with its comic timing and relatable irritation. The audience adored it.

The story follows Joey and Albert Narracott (played with warmth and sincerity by Tom Sturgess) as they form a bond built on trust and loyalty, only to be torn apart by war. Their separate journeys, both fraught with danger and resilience, run parallel until they the climax.

Joey meets another horse, Topthorn (Tom Quinn, Michael Jean-Marian, and Michael Larcombe), and we watch as they slowly become companions. Then there’s Captain Friedrich Müller (Alexander Ballinger), one of the standout human roles. Rather than falling into the cliché of enemy vs hero, Müller is portrayed as a sympathetic character tired, lonely, and kind. His care for the horses and his bond with Emily (Clara Lioe) show his deep humanity. He is, in many ways, a mirror to Albert just on the other side of the conflict.

Sally Swanson provides live, folk-inspired music as The Singer. Her voice, along with the atmospheric score, evokes both the English countryside and the haunting tones of war, grounding the production in time and place.

War Horse is an outstanding piece of theatre. From design to direction, puppetry to performance, it hits the mark with both spectacle and soul.

Photo Credit Brinkhoff-Moegenburg