So What Else Is On?

I can't remember what it was that first made me want to see War Horse. A friend's recommendation? A critic's review? The pleading eye of the titular horse gazing out at me from the poster? Regardless, the other week I finally found myself shuffling into my seat in the New London Theatre on Drury Lane to watch a moving tale of a boy, his horse and the horrors of the First World War unfold, featuring astonishing life-sized puppets (the handiwork of the South African group Handspring Puppets) and superb performances from everyone involved. Top billing, if it is not to be awarded to any of the magnificent puppets, should really go to Bronagh Gallagher, playing the mother of said boy, an endearing portrait of a long-suffering, loyal and affectionate wife. War Horse pulls few punches- people are gunned down, animals are put out of their misery- and uses a fantastic concoction of sound, light, backdrop and a rotating stage to construct an intoxicating and compelling performance, in which a goose will make you laugh and in which the heads of dying horses, craning upwards pathetically, bring home the horrors of war better than any poem on a page.