'War Horse' review — a magnificent homecoming for this theatrical masterpiece

Read our review of War Horse, adapted from Michael Morpurgo's novel, now in performances at the National Theatre to 30 July.

Summary

• War Horse returns to the National Theatre
• The dramatisation of Michael Morpurgo's novel centres on a boy and his horse
• Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris’s production remains a theatrical masterpiece
• The creations by Handspring Puppet Company are the stars of the show

I am not breaking theatre news in telling you that Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris’s production of War Horse is a theatrical masterpiece. Nick Stafford’s stage adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s war novel, told from the point of view of a cavalry horse, took its first canter around the National’s Olivier almost 20 years ago in 2007. Not only has it barely left the stage since (transferring to the West End, touring around the world, and finding further audiences on screen), but it’s continued to be universally adored.

Through unrivalled stagecraft that pours care into every tiny detail, it tells the irresistibly moving story of a boy and his horse, and a bond that takes them from rural Devon to the battlefield of World War I in France. When his drunken gambler of a father (Stephen Beckett) sells his horse Joey to the army, teenage Albert (Tom Sturgess, with gentle enthusiasm that gives way to brave defiance) enlists as a soldier in the hope of finding and bringing him home to safety.

The stars of this show are not its speaking characters but its life-sized steeds — wicker creations designed by Adrian Kohler for Handspring Puppet Company — each of which is mobilised by a trio of puppeteers. Showcasing the full capabilities of their craft, these masterly animators somehow render themselves invisible behind believably horse-like twitches of the ears, flicks of the tail, and affectionate nuzzles.

Among them is Joey, who we follow from his first stumbling steps as a foal to narrowly missing landmines in the Valley of the Somme. Loyal and stoic, he melts hearts and lodges a lump in your throat like not even Paddington could.

It all unfolds in front of a backdrop where illustrations by Rae Smith — first rural and idyllic, then desolate and violent — appear on a torn shard of paper in a nod to the show's storybook origin. This is very much an ensemble piece, but among those helping it impress are Sally Swanson, singing folk songs accompanied by her own accordion, and a comedy goose (controlled by various puppeteers) doggedly attempting to dash inside a farmhouse.

Originally written as a children’s book, it is a simplified look at a serious chapter of history. Of course, a reality in which Albert and Joey are reunited would be virtually impossible. Who cares; we are wholly invested and willing for it to happen either way.

The point is made that horses, like children, are innocent casualties of conflict, but the toll on human life is not overshadowed: there are moments where soldiers appear shellshocked, and others where their bodies lay strewn across the stage. But it is in scenes of unlikely comraderie where Morpurgo’s anti-war message chimes loudist. Nicholas Khan’s sympathetic dissenter of the German army, Friedrich, bonds with Anita Adam Gabay’s Emilie, a young French girl. And later, British and German soldiers work together to free a horse tangled in barbed wire, laughing at their ability to cooperate despite not speaking one another’s language.

It justifies its large cast too, the chorus of whom create a sense of busy marketplaces and squalid trenches. “We’re only remembered for what we’ve done,” they sing as the show draws to a close. If this production ever gallops off the stage for good, it will leave behind an almighty legacy.

War Horse is at the National Theatre to 30 July. Book War Horse tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: War Horse (Photos by Brinkhoff/Moegenburg)