Review: WHEN A HORSE GALLOPS INTO HISTORY AND BREAKS YOUR HEART 

AT THE NATIONAL THEATRE, THE RETURN OF WAR HORSE PROVES THAT SOME THEATRICAL MIRACLES DO NOT FADE WITH TIME, THEY ONLY GROW MORE PROFOUND. 

★★★★★

There are productions that succeed because they are brilliantly written. Others because they are beautifully performed. A rare few because they dazzle with technical innovation. And then there is War Horse—a work of theatre so extraordinary that it achieves all three simultaneously while accomplishing something even more elusive: it makes audiences believe in the soul of a horse.


Nearly two decades after its premiere transformed British theatre forever, War Horse returns to the stage where it first astonished audiences in 2007. Directed by Tom Morris, reuniting much of the original creative team responsible for its landmark success, this revival is not an exercise in nostalgia. It is a triumphant reaffirmation of why this production became one of the defining theatrical achievements of the 21st century.


Watching it today feels less like revisiting a beloved classic and more like discovering it anew.


Adapted by Nick Stafford from Michael Morpurgo's celebrated novel, War Horse tells the story of Joey, a horse whose life begins on a struggling farm in Devon before the outbreak of the First World War sends him on an unimaginable journey through the battlefields of Europe.


The plot unfolds with remarkable simplicity. Ted Narracott purchases Joey as a foal largely to spite his brother Arthur, much to the frustration of his family. Joey eventually becomes the responsibility of Ted's son Albert, who names him, trains him, loves him, and forms a bond so deep that it becomes the emotional foundation of the entire production.


What follows is both epic and intimate.


When war arrives, Joey is sold to the army without Albert's knowledge, tearing apart one of the most moving relationships ever depicted on stage. Captain James Nicholls promises Albert he will care for Joey and one day return him home. Yet war, as War Horse painfully reminds us, keeps very few promises.


Joey's odyssey across the front lines becomes a portrait of innocence trapped within humanity's greatest madness. He passes between soldiers, nations, and battlefields. He witnesses courage and cruelty. He survives artillery fire, mud, barbed wire, and devastation. And through it all, Albert embarks on a desperate mission of his own, lying about his age and enlisting in the hope of finding the friend he refuses to abandon.


The story reaches its emotional peak in a reunion scene so overwhelming in its humanity that it leaves the theatre suspended in collective silence. It is one of the most devastatingly beautiful moments ever staged, and this production delivers it with a force that feels almost unbearable.


Yet to describe the plot alone is to miss the miracle at the heart of War Horse.


That miracle stands before us on four legs.


The horse puppets created by the Handspring Puppet Company remain among the greatest artistic achievements in modern theatre. Years after their debut, they still possess the power to stop an audience in its tracks.


Joey's first appearance drew an audible reaction from the crowd on the night I attended. I understood immediately why.


I had previously watched the acclaimed 2014 filmed production through National Theatre at Home. Even through a screen, the puppetry was astonishing. But nothing prepares you for encountering these creations in person.


The moment Joey stepped onto the stage, chills ran down my spine.


You can see every mechanism. You can see every performer guiding him. Logic tells you this is wood, fabric, wire, and craftsmanship.


And yet within seconds, logic disappears.


The twitch of an ear. The shift of weight. The nervous movement of a head. The rhythm of breathing. The subtle flick of a tail. These details combine into something impossible to explain and impossible not to believe. The puppeteers do not merely operate Joey—they endow him with a consciousness. Before long, the audience stops seeing a puppet altogether.


Joey lives.


The same is true of the magnificent horse Topthorn, whose presence becomes equally unforgettable. Together, they create some of the most astonishing stage imagery contemporary theatre has ever seen.


Tom Morris wisely understands that perfection requires preservation rather than reinvention. This revival honors the original production while ensuring it remains vibrant for a new generation. Those who were children when War Horse first opened—or who had not yet been born—now have the opportunity to experience this masterpiece exactly as it deserves to be experienced: live.


The visual storytelling remains breathtaking.


Rob Casey's lighting design, succeeding Paul Constable's original work, paints the stage with remarkable beauty and precision. The projections from 59 Studio continue to rank among the most elegant examples of multimedia design in theatre, transforming a simple stage into vast landscapes, battlefields, and skies stained by war.


Adrian Sutton's magnificent score swells with emotion without ever becoming sentimental, while John Tams's folk-inspired songs root the production firmly within the culture and humanity of rural England. Their contributions give the play a haunting, almost mythic quality, as though Joey's journey is being passed down through generations around a fire.


Although the horses may be the production's most celebrated performers, the human cast rises magnificently to meet them.


Tom Sturgess delivers a deeply affecting performance as Albert. His portrayal captures youthful determination, vulnerability, and unwavering devotion with remarkable authenticity. Most importantly, he makes us believe every moment of Albert's bond with Joey. Their relationship becomes so emotionally convincing that tears feel inevitable long before the final curtain.


Sally Swanson provides a powerful emotional anchor throughout the evening. Her singing narration carries tremendous warmth and clarity, guiding the audience through Joey's journey while deepening the production's sense of place and memory. Her voice often feels like the story's spirit, observing history as it unfolds.


What makes War Horse so enduring is that it never uses the First World War merely as spectacle. The battle scenes are thrilling and terrifying, but the production's true subject is compassion. It asks what remains of humanity amid unimaginable destruction. It finds hope in friendship, loyalty, and perseverance. And it reminds us that innocence often pays the highest price when nations go to war.


There is not a false note anywhere in this revival.


Every creative choice feels purposeful. Every emotional beat lands. Every visual image serves the story. It is difficult to identify a flaw because there simply are none apparent. This is theatre operating at the highest possible level—technically brilliant, emotionally devastating, and artistically complete.


And yet my strongest memory of the evening arrived not onstage but beside me.


Throughout the performance, I found myself thinking of my late grandfather, who possessed a lifelong fascination with the history of the World Wars. Theatre was never his passion in quite the way it became mine, but I know he would have adored War Horse. He would have been captivated by its historical detail, moved by its humanity, and awestruck by its artistry.


As the story unfolded, the empty seat beside me seemed somehow less empty.


The feeling was impossible to explain and equally impossible to ignore. It felt as though he were there, sharing the experience. Watching Joey's journey. Marveling at the craftsmanship. Falling in love with this remarkable story.


By the final curtain, I felt not only grateful for the production itself but grateful for the memories it unexpectedly stirred.


That, perhaps, is the ultimate achievement of War Horse. It does more than tell a story. It connects generations. It bridges the past and present. It reminds us of those we have lost while celebrating the enduring power of love, loyalty, and remembrance.


Some productions deserve revival because audiences remember them fondly.


War Horse deserves a revival because audiences need to experience it.


This magnificent return proves that the passage of time has not diminished its power. If anything, the years have only made the extraordinary artistry at its core clearer.


It is one of the greatest theatrical productions ever created.


And this summer, it is once again unmissable.


War Horse - National Theatre: Olivier

Attended on 1 June 2026