Theatre review: War Horse

Rhys John Edwards 

War Horse is a theatrical spectacle. There’s no doubt about it, this is a production with clear technical prowess. But despite its immense visual and sensory power, its narrative falters under the weight of sentimentality, prioritising schmaltz over realism and convenience over complexity.

Tom Sturgess plays Albert Narracott, a boy whose life is transformed when his father, in a drunken act of spite against his brother, purchases a horse – Joey – at an extortionate price. Albert and Joey soon form a beautifully drawn bond, but their sweet friendship is cut short following the onset of the first world war. Joey is sold to the army behind Albert’s back, so in the hope of reunion, he enlists, determined to search the battlefields for his beloved horse.

Multi-rolling cast

Sturgess portrays Albert with a high-pitched, childlike earnestness. In the hands of a lesser actor, the implausibility of Albert’s journey might have stood out more prominently, but the believable naivety Sturgess brings to the character ensures it feels broadly plausible.

He’s accompanied by a terrific, multi-rolling cast – some of whom undergo almost chameleonic shifts between their roles. In particular, Gareth Radcliffe impresses as both Sergeant Thunder and Arthur Narracott – without consulting the cast list, I would never have known these two were one and the same.

Alexander Ballinger offers nuance as Captain Friedrich Müller, contributing to one of the more intriguing side stories – a German soldier who, weary of conflict, fakes his death to escape the front.  And Sally Swanson as the Singer stands out, not only for her stirring vocals but for acting as a kind of narrative palate cleanser – her folky numbers bridge the gaps between scenes, re-energising the audience and propelling the story forward.

Precision and clarity

Yet, despite the strength of these performances, it is the animals – by which I mean, the puppeteers – that truly command the stage. The physical precision and emotional clarity breathe astonishing life into Joey and his fellow creatures. The sacrifice they make of course, is that they quickly become invisible – which is surely, hell for a performer? Still, these puppeteers nobly vanish behind their puppets to the point that they feel indisputably alive. Every flick of an ear or tremor of a muscle conveys not just movement but hidden emotion.

War Horse is a technical marvel. The interplay of light, sound and stagecraft constructs battlefields, barns and no man’s land with striking fluidity. But the story, adapted from Michael Morpurgo’s novel, too often leans into the generic and the convenient. Its core theme – the futility of war – is well-trodden ground, and as such, the play rarely ventures beyond what is expected. The subplot involving Captain Müller in Act 2 hints at deeper complexity but is abandoned just as quickly as it was introduced.

Sentimentality over substance

The play’s moral message is undoubtedly worthy – that soldiers on both sides suffer only for the benefit of an elite who play war games far away from the battlefield – but it is delivered with such a heavy hand it fails in its intended impact.

The emotional stakes remain oddly muted. Deaths are confined to side characters, like expendable red shirts from Star Trek, they all meet their demise expectedly and without consequence.

There’s a reliance on sentimentality over substance, with a conclusion that feels unearned, as if the production has assumed it has already secured our tears from the subject matter alone.

War Horse may be an undeniable triumph of theatrical artistry, a testament to what live performance can achieve through intricate stagecraft, but ultimately, its spectacle doesn’t distract enough from its substandard plot. I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that this visually impressive show deserved a braver, more bittersweet curtain call.

War Horse is playing at Wales Millennium Centre until Saturday 25 October.