Horse Power

Translating a novel told through the eyes of a horse is surely no mean feat. Yet War Horse, the National Theatre’s adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s First World War tale, exceeds this task by a furlong. These equine puppets are stage triumphs- their skeletal frameworks, complex hinges and lucid skin effortlessly conjuring up the very image of a horse. Visceral and graceful, not a single detail goes unobserved- from trot to canter, grazing and ploughing, these puppets (each manoeuvred by three actors) are breathtakingly real. Even the actors’s neighs and harrumphs are so startlingly accurate that, at times, I foolishly had to remind myself the horse had no heartbeat. This is a play that relies heavily on its staging- sparse but visually artful, Morpurgo’s rapidly shifting story is lyrically accommodated by a page ripped from an artist’s sketchbook that becomes a fragmented 25 metre wide projection above the stage. It is a wonderfully innovative design, altering from moving sketches of a galloping horse to jagged visions of a battlefield torn by shrapnel. Admiring the genius staging often becomes the only relief from a story that is, in parts, a bit sluggish- made worse by the relentless use of that cornerstone of Middle England, the accordion. Whilst such folk songs may capture the jingoistic spirit of an English countryside coming together during war, there is only so much of the accordion one can humanly bear- and I, for one, definitely felt its effect was more grating than it was charming. And don't even get me started on the chronically dodgy German accents, who knew the enemy came from the East end. Inconsistent human acting aside, at least the show is saved by the puppets. These are the real stars, speaking the language of the Great War- its immense waste and futility. Overall, then, War Horse is a powerful production that beautifully dramatises the simple emotional bond that can exist between man and beast. Look out, too, for the puppet goose – in my opinion, pure comedy gold that crowns this theatrical victory.