Does Anyone Love a Horse That Much? or 'David Tries Spontaneous Theatre'

The answer to that question, worryingly, is probably yes, but thankfully this blog isn't about that. I didn't go to see Equus.

I've had tickets to see Warhorse for a couple of weeks, luckily I saw a ticket on Seatwave for £25 and I thought why not? I've wanted to see it since it came to the National Theatre. We've all seen the adverts, the impressive, slightly eerie puppet horses, the world war one setting, the reports from other people that it made them cry. That's like catnip for David. Most things make me cry, apart from Schindler's List for some reason. Of all the things! Marley and Me? tearsville, Up? cried like a baby, but real life horror? No, shocked definitely but no tears! I felt quite bad to be honest. I think I was too shocked to cry, and that was true watching this as well. But I'll come to that.

The other day, while I sat at home with Michael watching David Tennant in 'The Minor Character', a monologue by Will Self that some intellectual chap decided to put on television to confuse the audience of great britain, I got theatre fever. I was going to see Warhorse in a couple of days so I could probably wait, but as the Family Guy fanfare graced our TV I started idly searching the National Theatre website to see if I could use my entry pass. Something I'd highly recommend if you're between the age of 18-25! You can get into National Theatre productions for £5 if there are seats left! Well worth it!

I first of all booked to see One Man Two Guv'nors in a couple of weeks which I've very excited about. I then stumbled across something called 'The Pitmen Painters'. I don't know why it appealed to me. I like painting I suppose, I bought 3 canvases today from my favourite art shop in Berwick Street, Soho. Something about this play drew me in though so I read the synopsis. A group of miners in Newcastle in the 1930s start to go to an art appreciation class to try and better themselves intellectually and challenge the stereotype of the working class. The reviews said 'hilarious' 'touching' 'everyone should see this play' and see this play I did!

I used my entry pass because the play also ended today! Which is a sad thing because the Pitmen Painters was absolutely amazing. I've never laughed so hard in my life! The five men who took the class were all so different and the acting was incredible! I later found out that the play was written by the same guy who wrote Billy Elliot, Lee Hall, and funnily enough who also wrote the screenplay for the recent Warhorse film! I very much enjoyed my spontaneous trip to the theatre and I'll be doing this a lot more in the coming months. I find when I go to London I always find more things I want to see and do, and I've found that trying new things has led to quite a fulfilling way of life. I think I'm experiencing the same thing Danny Wallace did when he wrote Yesman, which I recommend to every person in the world! Saying yes to things does lead you to good stuff! Like when I finally send away that scratchcard for a sexy haircut and a river cruise.

The play got me thinking about art, I hate to going all pretentious, but it was a central theme of the play that the art the miners created was a personal thing for them and it was a message that they wanted to send people and their paintings being in galleries for people to see was important to them. I realised that if one rich person buys a painting and hangs it in a dusty corner of their mansion then that's selfish! I think art (if the artist wants it to be seen) should be for everyone, so they can all read a message from it. One of my favourite lines from the play (imagine it in a humorous geordie accent) was 'how are we supposed t' naa the meanin' if ye don' naa the meanin' of meanin''. The miners just wanted to know the message behind each painting as the artist put it down and it was the professor's job to teach them that each painting has a million meanings depending on who's looking at it. This is what I think about any art, paintings, books, music, films, the message is what you get out of it, and I love how a million different people can read something a million different ways. That's why I like galleries. I'm a geek.

On my way home, taking a slow, rather romantically wistful and thoughtful stroll through the rain nudging my way down the Strand, I decided to stop at the menus outside a few restaurants. I wouldn't go in by myself, that'd be loserish, but I like to stop and read the menus to make myself hungry. I like to think it gives me an adventurous air of someone richer than myself. So I stopped at a few until one caught my eye, it looked new, it looked tasty, it looked exotic to me. So I stopped and spent a good few minutes studying the menu.

'I must look so cool,' I thought to myself smugly.

I realised it was a Zizzi and shuffled away embarrassed.

Friday the 13th! Poppycock, I said to myself as I returned home that evening, I went to bed eager to return to the Drury Lane area the following day for Warhorse in my drama double bubble.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit' I said to myself and Michael as I did a little run through the living room at 12.30, my shoes in hand as I realised I was due to see the matinee of Warhorse, not the evening production. I'd rather been looking forward to drinking my tea and watching the tantalising prospect of Man City v Norwich which Sky Sports had decided to deliver this very Soccer Saturday (6-1 to City, my hero Noel Gallagher will be skipping round his mansion up north somewhere) I was quite worried I wouldn't make it, my spontaneous intellectual double header was lying in tatters by my new converse on the floor.

'You have time,' Michael said, cooly sipping his own tea.

I hoped I did, I'd been looking forward to this for weeks! I rushed out of the house and stood and paced as is my usual routine by the bus stop waiting for the 490.

Half an hour, that's right, not 12 minutes as the happy, optimistic sign by the bus stop said, half an hour later I found myself on the bus. My trying new things regime was being tested for the first time, I didn't want to write this blog with the embarrassment of saying that I had to enter at the interval because I didn't look at my ticket!

Well I have to say, thank the baby Jesus, Allah and Buddha, and most importantly South West trains for the fast train to Waterloo. I arrived in plenty of time. Sat in my cheap seat at the side of the stage, yes with a safety rail blocking part of my view but you can't complain with the cheap seats!

'It's dramatic isn't it!' I said to the girl next to me at the interval. Well, after chatting for a little bit, my actual opener was: 'Why don't we get ice cream up here?' Genius. And true! I could only drool (not literally, there was a lady present) at the box of Haagen Daas an usher was handing out downstairs. My slightly obvious statement at the drama production being dramatic was fitting though, I was on the edge of my seat the whole 2 hours 40 minutes (yes it's that long). I mean yes I was on the edge of my seat so I could peer over the safety rail, but I would have been safety rail or not.

The puppetry is some of the most impressive thing I've ever seen, the puppeteers who control the two main horses, Joey and Topthorn (going to have to give you a spoiler warning) became characters in their own right and though they don't speak, they give the best performances. How two hunks of metal and fabric who don't talk can have their own little character traits because of the brilliance of two people in a costume and a man controlling the head blew my mind. I wasn't expecting to be able to see the puppeteers to be honest, and if I'm honest, if I was to go again, I'd make sure I was looking directly at the stage, because I think my cheap seats view may have shown me a little more than I wanted to see. It was like sideboob. Although I wouldn't necessarily complain about that, maybe a poor comparison.

Oh I did cry, I told you a lie there at the start, when Topthorn died my eyes started leaking of their own accord. When Joey was about to be put down though, I was too shocked and tense to cry, never in my life have I wanted a puppet to live to the end of the play so much. And I don't say that a lot. I won't spoil that for you though, he is the main character after all.

The quality of the production was incredible, the horses themselves, the rotating stage, the parts of the stage that came away to reveal convincing trenches, more parts of trenches that fell from the ceilings, the gunshots, the smoke, the explosions, it was just incredible and I can't recommend enough.

Oh my favourite character, the goose. There's this puppet goose that a man wheels around quacking happily, and he tries to get into the farmhouse whenever Rose, the mother of the main character goes inside, only the door always shuts in his face and he quacks. Maybe a 'you had to be there' goose.

Oh and the songman! Bob Fox (I'm a nerd and bought the programme) a folk singer comes on with a violinist and assorted brass every now and again with an accordion and sings sad war songs between scenes. They were beautiful and fit so well and I'll be buying the soundtrack.

Oh I almost forgot, there was this woman in my row, she arrived last so we all had to stand up to let her in. Me and my interval friend were in stitches on account of her. First of all, the first thing she did when she sat down was crack open a relentless, this is funny in itself. Then (apparently, thankfully I couldn't hear) she kept on saying 'oh I love this bit' (imagine in a brummie accent) 'oh this bits sooo sad' throughout the play to my new friend's nan. I hope she was her nan not her mum. If either of you happen to read this I'm sorry! Unlikely, I forgot to ask her name!

Anyway, at the end of the play which is the highlight of my week, the actors all came out (including the puppeteers without their horsey costumes) as is usual to take an individual bow. After the actors the two horses came out and reared up dramatically. The brummie woman stood up and started cheering, pumping her fist and going 'wheeeeeeyyy'.

'Must be that relentless,' I said.

What a strange reaction! I mean I know it was dramatic, but the Muppets was dramatic when Kermit and the gang nearly didn't raise the funds to save their theatre, but I didn't cheer for Fozzie Bear! I mean I really liked the horse too, don't get me wrong, but 'wheeey?' really?

My one complaint, and it explains my title. Is that the boy, Albert love the horse so much! And he properly loves it. I've never had a pet so maybe I don't really get the animal love thing. I'm sure I will when I have one day, but even so, he loved it so much. Let me ask you a question, would you go to war for your cat? or your goldfish? or your sea monkeys? If the answer is yes then I'll shush, but have a think, I mean actually run away and go to the trenches in WW1.

I still absolutely loved the play, start to finish, and I'd go see either one of them again tomorrow.

Except it's the FA Cup semi final and my team's playing and I'm excited and otherwise engaged!